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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



















































































































✓ 











































1. Standard Club-House. 


6. First Presbyterian Church. 
9. Wabash Avenue. 


8. Pacific Hotel. 


10. Bigelow Hotel. 12. St. Paul's. 

11. Honore Block 

RUINS OF THE CHICAGO FlUE-VIEW FROM THE ROOF OF CONGRESS HALL, ON CONGRESS STREET, NEAR WABASH AVE> 


13. Cu stom-House and Post-Office. 15. Fit it National Bank. 

14. Tribune and Evening Post. 16. Booksellers’ Row, 

LOOKING NORTH. — [From a Photograph.] 


Trinity Methodist Episcopal Church. 19. Chicago Club-House. 22. Michigan Avt 
18. Catholic Bishop’s Palace. 20. 111. Central Depot. 25. J. Y. Scainmon. 






































































































































































































































































































































































I 


FIGHTING FIRE. 

THE 

Great Fires of History, 

INCLUDING THE % 

CONFLAGRATIONS IN CHICAGO, BOSTON, PORTLAND, NEW YORK, ETC. 

CAUSES OF FIRE, AND HOW TO PREVENT THEM. 


HOW THE ANCIENTS BATTLED WITH FLAME.—CONQUERING FIRE WITH 
WATER, STEAM, AND GAS.—HOW MODERN SCIENCE HAS ROBBED 
THE TYRANT OF HIS TERRORS.—THE FIRE ENGINE—THE 
STEAMER—THE GAS EXTINGUISHER—THE FIRE¬ 
MEN—THE SAFE—THE BANK VAULT-THE 
FIRE-PROOF BUILDING, ETC., 

WITH «. ’• 

THRILLING INCIDENTS, SCENES, AND ANECDOTES, 


AND 


A FULL ACCOUNT OF THE FRIGHTFUL LONDON PLAGUE AND THE 

FIRE WHICH FOLLOWED IT. 

INSURANCE: 


ITS HISTORY AND IMPORTANCE. WHAT TO INSURE AND HOW. 


Ij3 wj v\li\\;v> vi Vie>vH>v vvqVoa r o x 


V 


HARTFORD, CONN.: j 


-7 t ft- 


■ 1 / 


. / 





DUSTIN, GILMAN & CO., 

QTJEEN CITY PUBLISHING CO., CINCINNATI, OHIO. 

A. ROMAN Sc CO., SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 

1 8 ? 3 .' 








Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 
WORTHINGTON, DUSTIN & CO., 
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 




PREFACE. 


In offering this-volume to the public the writer had 
two objects in view: First, to put upon record in a 
compact form for future reference the great confla¬ 
grations of the past; Second, to call public attention 
to the methods by which the ravages of fire may be 
stayed. 

The losses by fire in the United States during the 
past six years sum up an aggregate of over four hund¬ 
red million dollars!' These are appalling figures. 

The ravages of war and pestilence are indeed 
frightful: these, however, are only periodic and occa¬ 
sional. But fire is always in our midst; like some 
strong and ferocious serf while chained and guarded 
it sits upon the hearthstone and does its master’s bid¬ 
ding ; unchained and unwatched it springs forth and 
devastates the household. 

Civilization, in ministering to the wants of man, 
multiplies the points of exposure to fire. The use 
of gas and kerosene, the elaborate devices for heating 
buildings, and the numerous explosive substances used 
in the arts, while they add to the comfort and luxury 
of man, open so many new avenues for the entrance 
of flame. 

Science, powerful to subjugate the other great 
forces of nature, cannot always conquer fire. Science 
versus flame! It is like the battles of the mythic 
gods with the giants. Tartarus sent up its fiery bat¬ 
talions against the shining hosts of Olympus, who 
shrank before the first assault, though victorious at 
last. 



IV 


PREFACE. 


Science grows more potent; it will not rest before 
it lias won a victory over fire grander than many a 
Waterloo. 

The substitution of steam for hand labor, the appli¬ 
cation of antiphlogistic gases and the use of building 
materials which resist the action of heat—these are 
the three principal methods which modern science 
employs by way of prevention and remedy against 
the ever present danger. Very powerful accessories 
to these methods are the telegraph, a highly organized 
fire department, and an ample supply of water judi¬ 
ciously disposed. Much has been done, but much stilJ 
remains to be done in man’s war against fire. New 
improvements must be devised and a further extension 
of such as have been already adopted. 

Insurance, an institution now grown so colossal in 
its proportions, and so beneficent in its results, has also 
received from the writer a somewhat more than pass¬ 
ing notice. 

In preparing this work for the press the writer has 
made free use of the articles on the Chicago fire pub¬ 
lished in the Lakeside Magazine, and of the works en¬ 
titled “ Through the Flames,” and “ Chicago as it Was.” 

Special acknowledgments are due to Mr. F. J. Mil¬ 
ler, of 65 Liberty street, New York, publisher of The 
Fire Record , for valuable materials furnished, and to 
the Insurance Monitor , from whose pages very useful 
extracts have been made; the “ History of the Fire 
Engine,” by Mr. C. C. Hine, has been of especial ser¬ 
vice to the writer. 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



l. 

9 


3. 


4. 


5. 


6 . 

7. 

8 . 
9 . 

10 . 

11 . 

12 . 

13. 

14. 

15. 

16. 

17 . 

18. 
19 . 


Ruins of TnE Chicago Fire, 


Page. 
- Frontispiece. 


“Latest Edition! All About the Great Fires,” 

The Palmer House, - . 

The “Tribune” Building, ------ 

“ Clear the Track !”. 

Mrs. Leary’s Cow,. 

Fighting It Behind the Barricades, - 
Ruins of First Presbyterian Church—South Side, - 
Scene at the Junction of Chicago River, - 
Ruins of Republic Life Insurance Co.'s Building, 

Ruins of First National Bank,. 

The Spent Stream (Tail Piece), ------ 

The Fire Fiend Encircled the City, - 

Ruins of Chamber of Commerce and Court House, - 

Ruins of New England Church—Congregational, - 

Ruins of Crosby’s Distillery,. 

Ruins of Second Presbyterian Church, 

The Outside Aid Coming,.- 

Burning of tiie Central Grain Elevators, 


25 

31 

33 

38 

46 

48 

51 

54 

59 

64 

65 

66 
69 


72 


74 

76 

82 

84 


20. Discovering Dead Bodies, . - 

21. Ruins of Unity Church—Dr. Collyer, 

22. Ruins of Land Office, III. Cen. R. R., 

23. Death in a Water Main, - - - - . - 

21. Steam Fire Engine (Tail Piece), - 

25. “ Play 4’s.,”. 

26. The Chicago Conflagration, Showing the Burnt 

District, .. 

27. Ruins of Post Office and Custom House, - 


96 

98 

102 

103 

104 

105 

107 

112 




VI 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


28. Regulation Button New York Fire Department, - 122 

29. Fireman and Child,. -138 

30. Ruins of Masonic Temple,.- 140 

31. Digging Out Safes,.- -148 

32. “Hot Chestnuts,”—Prompt Resumption of Business, 159 

33. A Sanctimonious Sharper, - - - - - -160 

34. The Claimant—“ So Pure and so Mild,” - - - 164 

35. “The Statement the Company Made,”- - 165 

36. The Company Gloomy and Glum,.173 

37. An Adjuster, As the Claimant Regards Him, - - 174 

38: Relics of the Chicago Fire,.176 

39. Unity Church—Rebuilt (Dr. Collyer’s), - 183 

40. The Monument Now Being Erected to Commemorate 

the Fire, .. 185 

41. In the Back Room, - -.190 

42. An Adjuster, As He Regards Himself, - - - 191 

43. Boston (Chapter Heading), - - - - - -192 

44. View of Franklin Street Before the Fire, - - 194 

45. View on Brattle Street,.197 

46. View of Washington Street from Corner of 

Summer,.199 

47. “Transcript” Office, Washington Street,- - - 200 

48. John S. Damrell, Chief of Boston Fire Department, 207 

49. View of Winthrop Square,.212 

50. Signal Lamp,.- - - 214 

51. Woman with Fire Brand,. -215 

52. Working Girls Endeavoring to Save their Effects, 223 

53. Hose Coupling,.228 

54. Fire Bucket, - 229 

55. Desperate Efforts of the Firemen to Save the 

Old South Church, - - - - - - -237 

56. The New Post Office Building, ----- 240 

57. Steam Fire Engine (TailPiece), .241 

58. Hose Carriage,. - 242 

59. The Arrest of Thieves, Roughs, and Plunderers, - 249 

60. Duty Trumpet, -.253 

61. Looking at the Ruins,.- 255 

62. Military Forcing Back the Crowd on Liberty St., 257 









LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. v j| 

63. Boston Pluck, - -- -- -- -- 263 

64. Ruins of Trinity Church, Summer Street, - - 265 

65. Gas Extinguisher,.- .269 

66. The Liberty Pole and Fireman’s Encampment, - - 271 

67. After the Struggle,.- 274 

68. Opening Safes—The Books All Right, - - - 276 

69. Selling Relics,.- 279 

70. Hydrant, - -- -- -- -- - 280 

71. CORNHILL, FACING WASHINGTON STREET, - 288 

72. Fireman’s Hat Tip,.- 308 

73. The Burned District (Boston), - 310 

74. Washington Street, looking towards the Old South 

Church during the Fire,. -313 

75. Tail Piece, - -.323 

76. Militia Relieving Guard near Ruins of Purchase 

Street Church, - - - - - - - -345 

77. Tail Piece, - - - - - - - - - -375 

78. Fireman's Hat,.. - - - - 390 

79. Fireman’s Lantern, ------- - 394 

80. Map of Burned District (New York), - - - 406 

81. View of Portland,.421 

82. Hose Carriage, -------- - 431 

83. Tail Piece, --------- - 442 

84. Chemical Fire Engine,.485 

85. Capt. Eyre Shaw, Present Chief of tiie London Fire 

Brigade, --------- - 492 

86. Old-fashioned Hand Engine, - - - - „ - - 496 

87. Fire-Tower at Moscow, ------- 503 

88. Fireman’s Fatigue Cap,.- 531 

89. American Fire Engine, 1785,. 551 

90. Egyptian Fire Engine, 200 B. C., - - - - 561 

91. Syringe of Sixteenth Century,.566 

92. German Fire Engine, 1615, ------ 567 

93. Hose, - -- -- -- -- -- 571 

94. Fire Engine of Strasburg, 1739,.572 

95. London Fire Engine, 1765,. 574 

96. Scene at a Fire in New York in 1730, showing the 

Apparatus then in Use,.578 












Vlll 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


97. Scene at a Fire in New York in 1733, showing the 

Apparatus then in Use,.581 

98. Adjustable Spray Nozzle,.585 

99. Hose Jacket,.- 586 

100. Play Pipe, -. -587 

101. The Hand Engine of the Present Day, - 588 

102. American Hand Engine of 185 7 , - - - - 591 

103. First Steam Fire Engine ever Built, London, 1829,- 594 

104. Capt. John Ericsson,.595 

105. First Steam Fire Engine ever Built in America, 1840, 600 

106. Latest Pattern Amoskeag Steam Fire Engine, - - 605 

107. Steam Fire Engine,.608 

108. Diagram of Chemical Fire Extinguisher, - 614 

109. Fireman’s Hat,.620 

110. Sending the Alarm to the General Office, - - 622 

111. “Turn out”—the Bunk Room,.623 

112. Joseph L. Perley, Chief of the New York Fire De¬ 

partment, .628 

113. TnE Stable, - - - -.630 

114. Beady for the Start,.631 

115. Going to the Fire,.- 633 

116. Fireman’s Respirator and Smoke Protector, - - 636 

117. Fire-escape Truck (Running Order), - 644 

118. Fire-escape Truck (Extended),.646 

119. Hose Coupling, - - -. 648' 

120. Fire-proof Safe for Plates,.659 

121. Firemen’s Monument (Greenwood Cemetery), - - 709 










CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

TELE GREAT CHICAGO FIRE. 

THE QUEEN CITY OF THE WEST. 

The Infant Settlement.—A City Springing Out of a Quagmire.—The 
Land Speculation.—Money Increasing Ten Thousand Fold.—Organiza¬ 
tion of the Town.—Growth of its Trade.—Institutions of the Citv.—Its 
Schools, Churches, Stores, Libraries.—Materials Used in the Building 
of Chicago.—Fuel for a Big Bonfire.—Why called Shanty Town.—- 
The Sun Prepares the Kindling Wood for a Mighty Conflagration. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE FIRST CARNIVAL OF THE FIRE-FIEND. 

The Slumbering City Awoke by the Fire-bell in the Night.—The Confla¬ 
gration of Saturday, October 7th.—Its Rapid Progress.—Pine Boards 
and Shingles and the Lesson they Taught.—Incidents of the Fire.— 
The Second Conflagration of Sunday, October 8th.—Darkness, Flame, 
and Tempest Conspire together.—The Track of the Conflagration.— 
The Fight with the Conspirators.—Ruin Incarnate.—Thrilling Inci¬ 
dents. 


CHAPTER III. 

# 

PROGRESS OP THE FIRE KING. 

The Colors of Tartarus.—The Apathy of Despair Seizing the People.— 
Following in the Track of Desolation.—The Sweep of the Conflagration. 
—The Crowd becomes a Rabble.—Dreadful Scenes.—The Fall of the 
Sherman House.—A Thrilling Incident.—A General Jail Delivery of 
Thieves and Murderers.—The Destruction of the Water Works.—A 
Delirious Victim.—A Chapter of Adventures and Escapes 




X 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE GRAVE OF THE FIRE—INCIDENTS. 

Boundaries of the Conflagration.—The Area of Desolation.—Flight of 

O O 

the Sufferers.—Heart-rending Scenes.—Taking Refuge in the Parks 

o o o 

and Prairie.—Night Among the Ruins.—Thrilling Incidents.—The 

o o o 

Cremation of Songsters.—Terrible Force and Swiftness of the Fire.— 
Suicide of an Unfortunate.—Burned Alive.—Shut Up in a Furnace.— 
Escape of One of the Demi-Monde. 

CHAPTER Y. 

RASCALITY, TRAGEDY, AND ROMANCE OF THE 

FIRE. 

Cold-blooded Avarice.—Ruffianism Rampant.—Hack Drivers and Cor¬ 
morants.—A Brighter Picture.—Heroism of Woman.— Hurrah for the 
Firemen!—Examples of Presence of Mind under Danger.—A Hair- 
Breadth Escape.—Panic Among the Domestic Animals.—A Bitter 
Separation.—Torn from the Flames.—A Leap for Life.—Running the 
Gauntlet.—Death by Fire versus Death by Water. 

CHAPTER YI. 

RELIEF. 

Effect of the Heat—Among the Ruins.—A Sea of Human Agonv.—A 
Hundred Thousand Houseless People.—Sorrowful Scenes.—A Night 
Bivouac Among the Smouldering Embers of the Fire.—The Beauty of 
Desolation.—Bringing Order Out of Chaos.—Firemen from Abroad.— 
Stout Phil.- Sheridan in the Saddle.—Telling the Storv -over the Fires. 
— Sublime Exhibition of Charity and Liberality.—Organized Relief.— 
States and Nations send Aid and Comfort.—The Dead at the Morgue. 
—Pluck and Hot Chestnuts.—A Sanctimonious Sharper.—Fire as a 
Mover and Purifier of the Heart. 


CHAPTER VII. 

LOSSES. ' ' 

List of Insurance Offices that had Risks in Burned Chicago.—Specified 
Losses.—Catalogue of Burned Buildings.—Business Houses, Churches, 
Hotels, Elevators, &c.—Grand Total.—Reconstruction. 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE GREAT BOSTON FIRE. 

THE THEATRE OF THE FIRE. 

The Situation of Boston.—Inadequate Preparations for its Growth.—Ill 
Adaptedness of its Streets.—The Cows the Pioneers in Laying them 
Out.—Old and New Boston.—Great Growth of the City.—Its Wealth 
and its Enterprise —Its Distinctive Business.—The Displacement of 
Dwelling Houses.—Tire March of the Merchants.—Splendid Structures 
in the New Business Region.—Fatal Mistakes in their Erection.—The 
Territory covered by the Fire. 


CHAPTER IX. 

' BEFORE THE FIRE. 

Earlier Exemption of Boston from Great Fires.—Improvements in its 
Fire Department.—Security Felt among its Citizens.—Portland fur¬ 
nishes the First Note of Alarm.—Its Effect only Temporary.—Chicago 
Startles the World.—Boston Still Undisturbed in its Confidence in 
Itself.—Impossible that the Scene of Chicago can be Repeated.—Yet 
a Prophet Arises, and Points Out the .Very Spot of Danger.—He is 
not Honored in his own Country.—Torchlight Processions.—The Horse 
Disease.—It Infects the Fire Department, which strangely Succumbs 
to it. 


CHAPTER X.' 

THE NIGHT BATTLE WITH THE FIRE. 

A Satisfactory Day followed by a Placid Evening.—The First Note of 
Warning.—The Fatal Delay.—Early Fury of the Flames.—The City 
Alarmed and Aroused.—Fearful March of the Fire to the North —It 
Envelops the Grandest Block in the City.—Startling Splendor of the 
Scene.—Eastward Progress of the Conflagration.—Streets Swept Down 
Before it.—Acres of Flame.—Sublimity on Earth and in Air.—Showers 
of Fiery Grandeur.—Sweeping to the Sea—Millions upon Millions 
Annihilated.—Efforts to Preserve Property.—Flames Carried to Other 
Regions.—The Eastern Limit Reached. 


Xll 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE NIGHT BATTLE WITH THE FIRE— Continued. 

The Battle on the West.—A Fearfully Critical Situation.—The Entire 
City Threatened.—The Mayor at the City Hall.—The Appeals of the 
Citizens for the Use of Powder.—The Mayor Consents.—Frantic 
Excitement in the Crowds.—The People on the Housetops.—Sublimity 
of the Scene.—A Sea of Fire.—The Explosions Ill-Directed and Use¬ 
less.— Superhuman Efforts of the Firemen.—They Make a Successful 
Stand on the Decisive Westerly Line, and Save the City.—The Fire 
Yet Raging Furiously at the North.—Advances in One Immense Line. 
The New Post Office its First Barrier.—It Resists Successfully.—Yet 
the Flames Advance Beyond.—They Threaten the Merchants’ Ex¬ 
change.—The Key to State Street.—Will it Hold Out ? 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE SCENE ON SUNDAY. 

The Fire Still Raging toward the North.—It Envelops Liberty Square.— 
Concentrates upon the Merchants’ Exchange.—The Last Stand Made 
at this Point.—A Terrible Contest.—Tremendous Struggle Between 
Opposing Elements.—The Fire Slowly Yields.—The Final Victory.— 
The Scene at Noonday.—Acres of Desolation.—The People Pour in 
from the Suburbs.—The Spectators from the Country round About.— 
The Intellkrcnce Flashed through the Nation.—Excitement Everv- 
where.—Flames Still in all the Burnt Region.—The Police Precautions. 
—The Military Summoned.—A Strange Sabbath.—The Common 
Covered with Merchandise Rescued from the Flames.—Night Fall.— 

O 

Crowds Still Arriving, but Quiet Maintained.—A Night Explosion.— 
The Fire Renewed.—A New Danger, and Another Severe Struo-o-le.— 
Great Additional Loss, but further immediate Danger Averted. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE ASPECT ON MONDAY. 

The Last of the Conflagration.—Crowds from the Country.—The City as 
if Besieged, and in Military Occupation.—The One Avenue North and 
South Choked with Travel.—Throngs without Precedent.—The Busi¬ 
ness Men Alert Among Them.—The Curiosity-Seekers Preponderate. 
—The Dangerous Classes Arrive from New York.—Preparations to 


CONTENTS. 


* * « 


XIII 

Protect Against Them.—The Common Fast Cleared of Goods.— 
Activity in the Burnt District.—Signs Set Up, and Excavations Com¬ 
menced.— A New Experience Comes with Nightfall.—The Gas Gives 
Out.—Tho City in Darkness.—Queer Substitutes.—Theatres and 
Public Places Closed.—The Dread of Crime in the Darkness.—Police 
Precautions.—The Night Passed in Safety. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

AMONG THE RUINS. 

Entering their Borders.— An Impressive Contrast.—Baffled Curiosity- 
Seekers.—The First View of Desolation.—Eccentric Aspects.—The 
Heart of the Fire.—Delving in the Debris .—An Awful Atmosphere 
—A Lurid Light Upon the Scene.—The Flames on the Borders.— 
Effect on the Imagination.—Depressing Sensations.—The Relief on 
Leaving the Territory.—The Silver Lining to the Cloud. 

chapter xv. 


THE LOSSES AND THE INSURANCE. 

Estimates of Losses.—Mistakes and Exaggerations.—The Wealth in the 
Burnt District.— The City Assessors’ Statement of Its Taxable 
Property, etc.—Proportion of Losses Borne by the Real Estate Owners 
■ and Merchants.—The Merchants Much the Severest Sufferers.—Their 
Entire Property Generally in their Business.—The Loss of Insurance 
the Finishing Blow.—Cases of Hardship.—'i he Winter Season 
Approaching.—Obstacles to Rebuilding.—Clerks and Operatives Thrown 
Out of Employment.—The Insurance Companies.—Their Remarkable 
Prosperity, and the Confidence Induced by It.—'1 heir Complete Wreck 
from the Results of the Fire.—Losses to Stockholders.—Ruin to 
Merchants.—'I lie Legislature Appealed to,—A New Law Devised.— 
Home Companies at a Discount in Popular Favor.—The Mutual Com¬ 
panies Mostly Pay in Full by Assessing on Premium Notes.—General 
Aggregate of Insurance Losses.—Percentages Paid in Home Offices. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

* / 

THE SPIRIT OP THE PEOPLE. 

Their Courage, Energy, and Resolution.—Instances of the Exhibition of 
these Qualities.— Scouring the City for New Business Quarters.— 


XIV 


CONTENTS. 


Eruption of Signs Among the Ruins.—The Rush of the Advertisers.— 
The Citizens Meet to Consider the Situation.—A Relief Committee 
Extemporized.—Resolutions and Plan of Action for the Future— 
Honorable Conduct of the Lumber Dealers.— l he Common Asked for 
for the Erection of Temporary Stores.—Opposition Thereto, and Final 
Defeat of the Proposition.—A Mushroom Settlement in the Burnt 
District.—The Faneuil Hall Citizens’ Meeting.—It Asks for the 
Passage of a Loan Act by the Legislature.—Opposition to this 
Measure.—Its Final Triumph.—Sympathy Shown from Abroad.—Its 
Spirit Checked by Over-Confidence Expressed in Boston.—The Mayor 
Takes the Right Ground, and is Sustained by the Relief Committee.— 
Too Late, however, to Undo the Mischief.—Unjust Attacks on the 
Mayor in the Press.—The Burden of Relief Thrown Chiefly upon the 
City.—The City Bears It, but Unfortunately and Unnecessarily. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


FIGHTING THE FIRE. 

Censures upon the Fire Department.—Delay in Reaching the Scene.— 
Early Fury of the Flames.—Combustible Character of the Material in 
which They Originated-—Fire Easily Controlled on its Southern Side. 
—Resistless Apparently Elsewhere.—The Theory of Atmospheric 
Conditions.—Failure in Franklin street.—Success on Washington 
street.—The Use of Gunpowder.—It is Discountenanced by the Chief 
Engineer.—He Yields to the Solicitations of the Citizens.—Little 
Good Accomplished by its Use.—This Probably Because it was in 
Inexperienced Hands.—No Skill or System Seen—The C hief Engineer 
Overcome by His Responsibilities.—A Committee of Investigation.— 
The Mansard Roof Again.—Other Agencies for the Spread of the Fire. 
—Heroism of the Firemen.—Their Daring Unsurpassed.—They 
Encounter Danger Constantly.—Loss of Life Among Them.—Examples 
of Martyrdom.—List of Killed and Wounded. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

INCIDENTS AND PECULIARITIES. 

Individual Deeds of Heroism.—The Thieves and Their Arresters.—A 
Case of Mistake, and Serious Turning of the Tables.—Efficiency of the 
City Police.—A Sudden Warning Out.—An Unceremonious Ejectment. 
—A Hair-Breadth Escape.—Six Men Immured in a Store and Rescued 
from Burning at the Last Moment.—An Extemporized Team.—“ Shoot 
Him on the Spot! ’’—What Two Women Did in Saving Goods.—The 
Services of a Faithful Domestic.—A Kind-hearted.^Teamster.—A 
Nervous, and Very Expensive Wife.—Hard Case of a Policeman.- 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


Another of Over-caution and Over-confidence.—Distressing Accident 
and Death.—The Safe Openings—Despair, Hope, and Relief.—An 
Affecting Scene.—Cases of Coolness.—Taking it Humorously.—Wit in 
Misfortune.—Hysterical Grief of a Poor Girl.—A Warm-hearted Irish 
Woman’s Generous Offer.—A Case of Absent-Mindedness.—A Rector’s 
Efforts, and His Unfortunate Recognition.—A Noble-hearted Woman. 
—Works of Art Destroyed.—A Picturesque Tableau.—Destruction of 
Costly Religious Ornaments.—Valuable Paintings and Artists’ Prop¬ 
erty Consumed.—The Trinity Church Treasures and Memorial Silver 
Saved.—The Scene at the Parker House.—The Phenomena of the Air.— 
Great Distance to which Material was Carried in its Upper Currents.— 
Quick Work in School street.—Millions on the March.—Losses in 
Literature.—Losses in Philanthropy and in Education.—Destruction of 
Engine Hose.—Curiosities in Relics.—Leather Reduced to its Most 
Condensed Form.—Effect of Heat upon Paper. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

HUMORS OP THE FIRE. 

Unwelcome Assistance.—Boots and Shoes Very Cheap.—Looking a Gift 
Horse in the Mouth.—Great Cry and Little Wool.—Lost, Saved, and 
Lost Again.—The Danger of Counting Chickens before They are 
Hatched.—A Harrowing Scene.—Where is Clara?—A Sad Cat¬ 
astrophe.—An Envious Chicagoan.—Boston Outdone.—Two Small to 
have a Really Big Fire.—A Bundle and a Man —Division of Labor.— 
Law and Equity.—A Bottle Trick, and a Fearful “ Splosion.”—A Fall 
in Glass.—Sodom and Gomorrah.—A Practical Exemplification of 
Predestination —The Evils of Curiosity.—A Stolen Box Gets its Pur- 
loiner into a Bad Box.—Phosphorus Cannot be Carried in the Panta¬ 
loons’ Pocket with Comfort.—Jehu Outwitted.—The Folly of Not 
Doin or a Cash Business.—A Polite Coachman, and a Fare Anxious to 
be Arrested.—Fifty Cents versus Forty Dollars.—Ireland at the Fire. 
—Condolers Doomed to Hotter Flames than Any that Raged at the 
Fire.—Good Advice Thrown Away.—A Well-meaning Man Put Out, 
instead of the Fire.—Some Things that were Saved.—Others that were 
Not.—The Soldiers at the Barricades.—The “ Sojer ” Coat.—Napo¬ 
leon’s Old Guard.—Euchred.—Droll Inscriptions. 

chapter xx. 

AFTERWARD AND IN RETROSPECT. 

Feverish Apprehensiveness of Further Fires.—Gradually Allayed.—• 
Awakened Again the Second Week by Another Large Fire.—And 


XVI 


CONTENTS. 


Still Another.—No Further Remarkable Alarms or Occurrences.— 
Progress in Recuperation.—The State of the Safes.—A Large Supply oi 
Water.—No Money Panic.—The Nature of the Losses.—The Good Order 
of the City.—Closing of the Bar-rooms.—The Theatres and Lectures 
Suspended.—Classic Sites in the Burnt District.—Webster, Choate, 
Everett, Bancroft, Channing.—The Temple of the Drama.—The Birth¬ 
place of Franklin.—Trinity Church.—The Old South Saved.—Its 
History.—It Encounters Another Danger.—Yields to the Demands of 
Business.—Formidable Opposition Thereto.—The Newspaper Offices. 
—The Coliseum.—The Clergy.—Rev. Robert Collyer. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

CONCLUSION. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE BOSTON FIRE. 

AN ADDRESS BY HENRY WARD BEECHER, 

Sunday Evening, November 10, 1872. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE NEW YORK FIRE OF 1835. 

'The Frost King and the Fire King.—Night Wind and Flame—The Fire¬ 
men paralyzed.—Rapidity of the Conflagration.—“ Fire-brands, Arrows, 
and Death.”—“ Pray to God, for all Human Aid is vain.”—Watching 
the Fire from the Dome of the Exchange.—Dress Goods and Groceries 
as Fuel.—Burning of a Church.—Sublime Spectacle.—Begging for 
Gunpowder.— Carnival of Thieves and Plunderers.—Rocking a Bundle 
of Dry Goods to sleep.—A Picturesque Fire Company.—Walking Home 
fast Asleep.—Merchants going to survey their own Ruin.— Frightful 
Losses.—Origin of the Fire.—Gas again! 

o o 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE GREAT PORTLAND FIRE. 

The Beauty of Portland.—Its Disasters in the Past.—A Bright Morning 
and a Lurid Evening.—The Fire Fiend Painting Hell on the Sky.— 
The Career of the Flames.—Wiping out the city.—Floating Down upon 
a Sea of Fire.—A Pretty Pickle.—An absent-minded old Lady.— 


■ 


CONTENTS. 


xvii 


Wandering among the Ruins.—Moralizing over the Instability of 
Wealth.—A Letter from Hon. P. W. Chandler.—Counting up the 
losses. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE PLAGUE IN LONDON. 

What is the Plague ?—Its first Symptoms, its Malignity, etc.—How and 
when it broke out in London.—It Spreads amid the Filth of St. Giles. 
—Terror of the Inhabitants.—A General Stampede.—Two Hundred 
Thousand People flying from the City.—Closing of Infected Houses.— 
Cessation of Business and Grass Growing in the Streets.—Imprisoned 
with the Plague-stricken.—A Terrible Situation.—A Pest-house and a 
Prison.—Breaking from Confinement.—Heart-rending Scenes. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

BURYING THE DEAD.—MOURNING IN DAYLIGHT 

AND DARKNESS. 

Burials by the Wholesale.—The Great Pit in Aldgate Church Yard.— 
The Dead Cart on its Rounds.—Thrilling Scenes by the Grave.—Rob¬ 
bing the Corpses.—Hard-hearted Nurses.—A Female Ghoul.—A Pic¬ 
ture of the City Festering under the July Sun.—The Plague-smitten 
Dropping Dead in the Street.—Night Scenes.—The Cross-marked Door 
and the Drowsy Watchman.—Thieves Loaded with Infected Clothing. 
—An Awful Cry; “ Lord, have Mercy upon us! ”—The Dead Carts 
Abandoned by their Drivers and Corpses Tumbled into the Street. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE CITY OP DESOLATION. 

* • 

Under Ban.—Plague Patients Wandering into the Country.—Dead in 
Highways and Ditches.—Outrages by the Hired Nurses.—Smothering 
a Patient and Stealing his Clothes.—Walking about with Death written 
upon the Face.—Incidents of the Plague.—The Blind Piper in the 
Church Yard.—Hydropathy; a Rough Remedy and a Speedy Cure.— 
A Tradition of the Plague.—John Colby’s Adventure.—Chased by one 
of the Plague-stricken.—Diminution of the Distemper.—Extent of its 
Ravages. 


2 


XV111 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON. 

London in 1666 and 187-2.—Preparing Combustibles for the Conflagration 
—The Fire Bell at the Dead of Night!*—Burning of St. Magnus’ 
Church.—Swiftness of the Flames.—Stupefaction of the Citizens.— 
Vain Efforts of the Firemen to stem the Tide of Fire.—Syringes at a 
Discount.—Account of an Eye-witness.—Extract from Pepy’s Diary.— 
A Graphic Narrative of the Fire on Sunday.—King Charles II. and his 
Officers Fighting the Flames.—Escaping across the Biver.—An Arch 
of Fire in the Sky.—A Night of Terror. 

• 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE SECOND DAY’S HOLOCAUST. 

Rioting among the Palaces.—The Old Story of Rascally Draymen.— 
John Evelyn’s Narrative.—A Ramble through the Flames.—Scenes on 
the River Thames.—A Cloud of Smoke Fiftv Miles Long.—A Night 
of Battle with the Flames.—The Burning of the Royal Exchange.— 
Thursday’s Fire.—Pepy’s Narrative.—Burning of Old St. Paul.—The 
Palace of the Flame Genii.—Magnificent Spectacle.—Guih’hall burns 
next.—A Castle built of Blocks of Burning Charcoal.—Dreadful Suf¬ 
ferings of the Poor. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

END OF THE FIRE. 

Pepy’s Diary of the Conflagration continued.—View from Barking 
Steeple.—An Ocean of Fire.—Flight to the Suburbs.—The Flames 
Dying Away.—A Stroll through the Burnt District.—Scenes and Inci¬ 
dents.—Effect of the Fire upon Metal and Stone.—Sermon by Rev. 
Thos. Vincent.—Summing-up of the Whole Matter.—Following in the 
Track of the Conflagration.—Catalogue of Losses.—$300,000,000 of 
American Money.—The Fire a Blessing in Disguise.—New London.—• 
The Monument. • 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE OTHER GREAT FIRES OF HISTORY. 

Burning of Rome by Nero.—Account of the Conflagration from Tacitus. 
—Almost Total Destruction of the Eternal City.—Incendiarism upon a 
Gigantic Scale.—Burning of Moscow by the Tartars, 1571. Frightful 


CONTENTS. 


XIX 


Loss of Life.—Pyramids of Roasted Corpses.—Constantinople Fires.— 
The Ashes of 100,000 Buildings.—Burning of Moscow in the Russian 
Campaign of Napoleon.—An Army Driven Back into the Snow.—A 
Fiend-like Patriotism.—The Blazing Kremlin and the Freezing Soldiers. 
—The Conflagration in New York, 1845.—Great. Explosion and Loss 
of Life. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE GREAT FIRES OP HISTORY—CONTINUED. 

Blazing Quebec.—The Conflagrations of San Francisco.—The Peshtigo 
Disaster?—The First Omens.—A Tornado of Flame.—Choice of Death 
by Fire or Water.—March of the Fiery Tempest.—Seven Hundred 
Square Miles of Ashes.—Frightful Loss of Life and Property.—Tabular 
Statement of the other Remarkable Conflagrations. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

CAUSES OP FIRE. 

Charles Dickens on Fire as a Servant and as a Master.—A Lecture on 
Carelessness.—Guarding against the Outbreak.—Chimney and Stove 
Pipes.—Gas as an 'Assistant to Great Conflagrations, as in Chicago and 
Boston.—Necessity for Cut-offs in the Large Cities.—A Few Trials 
Respecting the Use of Gas, and a Word to ^Tas-fitters and Plumbers.— 
The Foe at our Firesides.—Entertaining Incendiaries Unawares.—The 
Incendiaries Pointed out by Name.—A Warning to Mechanics, Manu¬ 
facturers, Hotel Keepers, and Smokers. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

INCENDIARISM AND PYROMANIA. 

Twenty-five Thousand Fires and their Causes.—A Few Statistics.—The 
Three Principal Causes.—Accidents, Flues, and Fire-bugs.—Incendia¬ 
rism ; its Prevalence and Motives.—A Terrible Fact.—Sheep, Dogs, and 
Wolves.—Firemen as Incendiaries .—Pyromania as a Form of Insanity. 
—Symptoms and Characteristics of this Kind of Mania.—Instances 
where it has Manifested Itself, in Europe and this Country.—The Salem 
Fire-bug.—Rufus Choate Defending a Youthful Pyromaniac.—Candles, 
Lamps, Gas, and Kerosene.—A List of Explosive and Combustible 
'Articles.—Two Curious Causes of Fire. 


XX 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION. 

What is Spontaneous Combustion?—Explanation of the Term.—Cotton, 
Oil &c., Taking Fire of their own Accord.—Cases where such Fires 
have occurred.—Ships and Warehouses mysteriously Bursting into a 
Blaze.—A Black List of Dangeroifs Substances.—Spontaneous Com¬ 
bustion of the Living Human Body.—Will a Man Burn up without 
beinfr set fire to?—A Few Cases in Answer to this Question.—What 

O 

Plenty of Gin will Produce in a Corpulent Man or Woman*—Story of 
the Fisherman’s Wife.—Opinion of Orfila, the Celebrated Physician.— 
What became of an old Woman in an hour and a half.—A Strange 
Phenomenon.—Boasted and melted Alive.—The Fate of a Drunkard.— 
Terrible Warning to the Intemperate.—A Catalogue of Precautions. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

OLD METHODS FOR EXTINGUISHING FIRE. 

How the Ancients Fought Fire.—Alum as a Shield.—The Water-bomb; 
„ who Invented it and How it W r orked.—Other Devices in the Last Cen¬ 
tury.—History of the Fj^e Engine in Ancient Times.—Its Use in Egypt 
and Old Rome.—Syphons; what were they?—Forcing Pumps, Valves, 
and Levers in Former Ages.—V 7 ater Bays, Pipes, and Syringes.—De¬ 
vices Employed at the Great Fire of London, 1666 .—Rise of the Fire 
Engine and Hose in Germany.—Fire Engines in the Seventeenth 
Century.—Invention of the Van Heides.—Description of the Improve¬ 
ments made in Holland. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE MODERN FIRE ENGINE AND THE HOSE 

SYSTEM. 

Fire Engines of the Eighteenth Century in Germany and England.— De¬ 
scription of the Strasburg Engine.—Richard Newsham, of London, and 
his Invention.—Means used previously to Extinguish Fires in London. 
—Full Description of the Newsham Engine.—Fire Engines in the 
Cities of America.—A Fire in Old New York.—How the Knicker- 


CONTENTS. 


XXI 


bockers dealt with Conflagrations.—Tools and Appliances connected 
with the Manual Engine.—Invention of Hose.—Different Kinds of 
Hose and the Various Contrivances which belong to it.—Hoods, 
Jackets, Strainers, Branch Pipes, Heels and Drying Racks.—Manual 
Engines and their Inadequacy to the Purpose of Putting Out Fires.— 
The Story of one of Hummans Tubs. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

STEAM FIRE ENGINES. 

# 

Steam versus Muscle.—A Fight between the Fire Fiend and the Steam 
Champion.—Invention of Steam Fire Engines.—Captain John Erics¬ 
son.—Description of the Machine.—History of the Invention.— 
Triumph of Steam over Muscle.—A. & B. Latta of Cincinnati Demon¬ 
strate the Practicability of the Machine.—The Test.—A Brilliant 
Success.—Christening the Engine.—The Steam King Enthroned.— 
General Adoption of the Machines.—Qualifications of a Good Steamer. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

EXTINGUISHING FLAME WITH CARBONIC ACID 

GAS. 

A Volcano in Action Suggests the Use of Gas as a Means for Extinguish- 
ing Flame.—Putting Out Fires at their Start.—The True Value of a 
Portable Fire Extinguisher.—The Phillips Patent.—The Basis of the 
Extinguishers at Present in Use.—Carbonic Acid Gas, and its Effect 
upon Fire.—How it is Manufactured.—Description of the Machine and 
its Use.—Special Tests.—Value of the Invention.—Its Superiority over 
all other Methods.—A True Fire Annihilator. 

CHAPTER XL. 

FIRE DEPARTMENT, AND HOW TO PUT OUT A 

FIRE. 

The Fire Department System in the United States.—A Visit to Head¬ 
quarters in New York.—The Fire Boxes and their Use.—Telegraphic 
Apparatus.—A Gigantic Music Box.—Striking the Gong.—Sending 
Word to the Steamers.—Mending the Broken Wires.—The Rendez¬ 
vous.—Sounding the Alarm.—A Visit to the Engine Houses.—The 


• • 


CONTENTS. 


xxn 

Horses and tlie Iron Horse.—Waiting for the Signal.—The Composi¬ 
tion of a Fire Company.—An Alarm Sounded upon the Gong.— Getting 
Ready to Start in Thirteen Seconds.—A Dash Through the Darkness. 
—On the Ground, and at Work.—Fires in a Diminishing Scale.—An 
Efficient Organization.—Fighting Smoke.—A Good Respirator. 


CHAPTER XLI. 

FIGHTING FIRE WITH WATER AND STEAM. 

New Plans to Put Out Fire.—Letting in the Briny Deep.—Chief Engineer 
Tracy’s Plan.—Utilizing Steam and Gases.—Kidd’s Proposition.—A 
Patent Sprinkler.—Flames Reduced by Mist.—An Elaborate Mechan¬ 
ism.—The Hydrant System.—“ Putting a Head ” on it.—A Deluge by 
Turning a Screw.—How this Plan Works.—Can it be Adopted in our 
Large Cities.—A Few Words to Countrymen.—A Village Fire Engine. 
A Simple Recipe.—A Good Use for Woolen Blankets and Carpets.— 
Fire Escapes, their Description and Efficacy.—Sliding Down from a 
Four Story Window.—Defects of Fire Escapes. 

CHAPTER XLII. 

SAFES AND BANK VAULTS. 

Wealth and what it Consisted of in Old Times.—The Modern Commer¬ 
cial System and its Effect upon the Evidences of Value.—The Strong 
Box of Antiquity.—History of Safe Making.—Plaster of Paris as a Fire¬ 
proof Filling, and How it came to be Discovered.—Other Mixtures 
Capable of Resisting Fire, and their Merits.—Water in Combination.— 
Steam Safes.—Improvement Recently Made.—Locks and the Electro 
Magnetic Detector.—How Fire and Burglar-proof Safes are Made 
Now.—Bank Vaults.—Their Construction and Use.—The Vaults of the 
Stock Exchange, of Brown Brothers, &c.—The Value of Safes.—A 
Visit to the Safe Manufacturers.—Thrilling- Incidents of the Boston 
Fire.—Opening of a Red-hot Safe.—“ Thank God! My Fortune is 
Saved.”—Song of the Fire Champion. 

CHAPTER XLIII. 

FIRE PROOF BUILDINGS. 

The Mania for Tinder Boxes.—Catering to the Appetite of the Fire 
Fiend.—A Word of Caution.—Nothing Absolutely. Indestructible by 
Fire.—Action of the Devouring Element upon Ordinary Materials.— 


CONTENTS. 


XX111 


“Fire-proof” Buildings as Blast Furnaces.—Stone, Iron, and Brick 
under the Flames.—Proof of a Physical Axiom.—History of Fire¬ 
proof Buildings.—How the Architects of Old Rome and of the Middle 
Ages went to Work.—Fire-proofing in England.—The Principal Diffi¬ 
culty and Danger of such Structures.—Examination of Materials in 
Detail.—Brick, Stone, and Iron: which is the Best ?—The Nearest 
Approach to a Fire-proof Building.—The Mansard Roof as a Tinder 
Box, and its Proper Construction.—The Water Shield in the Walls of 
Buildings. 664 


CHAPTER XLIY. 

INSURANCE: ITS HISTORY AND IMPORTANCE. 

Definition and Objects ot Insurance.—Rise of the Institution.:—Insurance 
in Ancient Times, and in the Middle Ages.—Its Origin in Germany 
and England.—Magnitude and Importance of the Present System.—A 
Few Facts and Figures. 683 


CHAPTER XLY. 

THE BUSINESS OP INSURANCE AND HOW IT 

IS DONE. 

Subdivision of the Insurance.—Nature of Risks in General.—Life Insur¬ 
ance as a Science.—Its Essential Principles.—Unsettled Character of 
Fire Insurance.—How it is Conducted in England, France, and Ger¬ 
many.—The Law of Insurance.—State Legislation.—Fraudulent Com¬ 
panies, and How They are Organized.—The Officers and the Policy.— 

The Insurance Detectives.—The Journals and the Fire Patrol. 693 

* 


CHAPTER XLVI. 

INSURANCE AS A BUSINESS. DOES IT PAY? 

The Two Interested Classes, Insurers and Insured.—Does the Business 
Pay?—Noteworthy Facts in the History of Insurance.—Causes of the 
Failure of Insurance Companies.—Competition and Low Rates.—The 
Remedy for the Evil.—Can it be Applied ?—A Few Important Points. 
—Classifying Risks.—The Character and Antecedents of the Applicant. 
—Incendiarism, Fraud, and Gross Carelessness.—Paying up Losses.— 
The Most Important Point.—A Proper Distribution of Risks.—Need 
of Reform and Improvement.—Uniform Laws, Uniform Rates, and 
Uniform Policy. The New Era in Insurance. * 703 






CHAPTER I. 


THE GREAT CHICAGO FIRE. 


THE QUEEN CITY OF THE WEST. 

The Infant Settlement—A City Springing out of a Quagmire—The 
Land Speculation—Money Increasing Ten Thousand Fold—Organiza¬ 
tion of the Town—Growth of its Trade—Institutions of the City—Its 
Schools, Churches, Stores, Libraries—Materials Used in the Building, 
of Chicago—Fuel for a Big Bonfire—Why called Shanty Town— 
The Sun Prepares the Kindling Wood for a Mighty Conflagration. 


C ^?^HE biography of a nation embraces all its 
works, and especially its cities, for it is 
Jj in the growth of cities that the wealth, 
power, and civilization of a nation is most 
clearly shown. The nineteenth century 
. has seen many marvelous things, but few 
M jnore marvelous than the rise of Chicago. 
Old Rome grew for seven hundred years before it 










26 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


became the city of four million inhabitants under 
Augustus; London has grown one thousand years to 
reach its present magnitude, but within little over 
forty years Chicago, has grown out of the wet, deso¬ 
late prairie to be the fourth city in the Union, and 
at its present rate of increase the year 1900 will see 
it more populous than London or old Rome. 

To comprehend the causes of the unprecedented 
growth of the city, and at the same time the magni¬ 
tude of the disaster which befell it in 1871, it may 
not be deemed inopportune if we recur to her earlier 
history and very briefly trace her progress, step by 
step, from small beginnings until she attained her 
later commanding position, as the queen city of the 
great northwest. 

The first sites of many of our great cities have been 
selected by the eye of the soldier with reference to 
fortifications and military operations, and the building 
of Fort Dearborn in 1804 upon the site of Chicago, 
established that frontier post as the rallying point 
of the settlement which was to follow, and passing 
over a period of twenty-seven years, we come to 1831, 
in the early part of which year Cook County, em¬ 
bracing Chicago, was organized. In the same year 
all the buildings in Chicago were log cabins, the 
more pretentious, including two business houses and 
a hotel of hewed logs, which were viewed as an 
aristocratic pretense by the more humble denizens. 
Two of the new cabins were store houses for goods, 
including calicoes, rum, sugar, coffee, and tobacco, 
which at that date were among the leading necessa¬ 
ries of life, and two were hotels. Late in the summer 
of 1831 western emigration set in largely, and during 
the fall months the population was more than doubled 


CHICAGO. 


27 

by hardy pioneers, representatives of the bone and 
sinew of the land, generally intelligent, and prepared 
to endure the hardships and privations of life on the 
frontier. 

In the following year was erected the first frame 
building in the settlement of Chicago. On July 22d, 
1834, a meeting of qualified voters was held, at which 
it was voted by twelve good men and true, that it 
would be a rightful and proper thing, and eminently 
expedient, to incorporate the town of Chicago. Only 
one man cast a negative ballot. 

There were at this time twenty-eight legally quali¬ 
fied voters in the settlement, but all did not see fit 
to exercise their rights. 

The poll list of citizens amounted to one hundred 
and eleven, and the amount of taxes reached forty- 
eight dollars and ninety cents; but this being inade¬ 
quate for municipal purposes, the trustees resolved to 
borrow sixty dollars for the opening and improve¬ 
ment of streets. 

The advance in real estate, that commenced to 
attract attention throughout the country as early as 
1833, lies at the foundation of most of the wealth 
of Chicago, as well as of many private capitalists. 
Ford's “ History of Illinois ” says:—“ In the spring 
and summer of 1836 the great land and town lot 
speculations of those times had fairly reached and 
spread over Illinois. It commenced in the state first 
at Chicago, and was the means of building up that 
place in a year or two from a village of a few houses 
to be a city of several thousand inhabitants. The 
story of the sudden fortunes made there excited at 
first wonder and amazement, next a gambling spirit 
of adventure, and lastly, an all-absorbing desire for 


28 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


sudden and splendid wealth. Chicago had been for 
some time only a great town market. The plots 
of towns for a hundred miles around were carried 
there to be disposed of at auction. The eastern 
‘people had caught the mania. 

Every vessel coming west was loaded with them, 
their money and means, bound for Chicago, the great 
fairy land of fortune. But, as enough did not come 
to satisfy the insatiable greediness of Chicago sharpers 
and speculators, they frequently consigned their 
wares to eastern markets. Thus a vessel would be 
freighted^ with land and town lots, bound for New 
. York and Boston markets, at less cost than a barrel 
of flour. In fact, lands and town lots were the staple 
of the country, and were the only article of export. 

This spirit of land speculation has continued rife 
till the present day. One incident will illustrate how 
swiftly property has at times risen, and what fortunes 
have been accumulated by that rise. In 1866 an 
eastern gentleman invested $20,000 in city lots. In 
a few weeks the purchaser came to look at his prop¬ 
erty, and had been in the city but one day when he 
was offered $100,000 cash for it. This was a surprise, 
but next day $25,000 was added to the inducement. 
He concluded to “ go slow,” and therefore made an 
investigation of values of property correspondingly 
located. The result was astounding to all his precon¬ 
ceived notions of unproductive real estate, and he 
found he had bought a fortune for a small sum. 
After remaining in Chicago about fifteen days he 
closed an agreement by which he received, then and 
thereafter, $278,000 for his lot, a profit of more than a 
quarter of a million of dollars on a sixty day’s invest¬ 
ment of twenty thousand. 


CHICAGO. 


29 


On the 4th of March, 1837, the city charter was 
granted, an event that was hailed with great rejoic¬ 
ings by the people, as investing them with power to 
inaugurate certain improvements that could not he 
compassed under the town organization. 

The first census taken in the following July gave a 
population of 3,989 white persons, 513 of whom were 
under five years of age, 77 colored, and 194 sailors 
belonging to the port of Chicago. There were about 
800 voters, 398 dwellings, 24 dry goods stores, 21 
grocery and provision stores, 5 hardware stores, 3 
drug stores, 10 hotels, 17 lawyers’ offices, and 5 
churches. 

From this point its growth was steady and rapid, 
the population doubling every four years, till in 1871 
it had risen to 350,000 souls. Nothing like this had 
ever been known in the history of the world. 

Equally gigantic were its strides in commerce and 
wealth. In 1838, a venturesome trader shipped 
thirty-nine two-bushel bags of wheat. Next year 
nearly 4,000 bushels were exported; the next 10,000 ; 
the next 40,000. In 1842 the amount arose, all at 
once, from 40,000 to nearly 000,000. In 1871, 
55,000,000 bushels of breadstuff were exported. 

In 1849 the first locomotive halted ten miles below 
the city. To-day Chicago is the centre from which 
30,000 miles of railway radiates, and the depot where 
is received and stored produce to the amount of $300,- 
000,000. Its total trade was estimated at $400,000,- 
000. To carry on this immense traffic eighteen 
banks were in operation, with an aggregate capital 
of nearly $10,000,000, and with nearly $17,000,000 
of deposits. Not less than one hundred passenger 
trains and 120 freight trains arrived and departed 


30 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


daily, while full seventy-five vessels loaded and un¬ 
loaded every day at the wharves. For the municipal 
year of 1870-1871, the total assessed valuation of the 
city was $277,000,000, of which $224,000,000 was real 
and $53,000,000 personal. This, however, represents 
scarcely more than half of the actual value, which 
was in excess of $500,000,000. The taxes collected 
for that year were $3,000,000, besides nearly an equal 
amount for special improvements, grading, paving, 
and curbing. 

The personal property was classed as follows:— 
Individual personal property, $43,647,920; bank 
personal property, $7,511,600 ; vessels, $1,183,430. 

In 1832 there was a tax of one hundred and fifty 
dollars levied on the eight hundred people then dwell¬ 
ing on the banks of Chicago river, and the first public 
building consume!! one-twelfth of the levy—a pound 
for stray cattle. The population multiplied from 1833, 
though in 1837 there were but 4,470 persons there. 

The whole number of persons assessed for taxes on 
personal property in 1871 was 14,633. The area of 
the city, according to the last arrangement of boun¬ 
daries, including parks, public squares, etc., was about 
35 square miles, or 22,400 acres. The number of 
dwellings, according to the last enumerations, was 
nearly 60,000, of which about 40,000 were wood. 

The operations of trade, being on the grandest scale, 
were carried on in edifices of marble, sandstone, brick, 
granite, and iron, which rivaled even those of New 
York, that city of commercial palaces. The tens of 
thousands of strangers and sojourners were entertained 
in hotels built and conducted on a scale commensurate 
with the grandeur of the city and of its commercial 
enterprises. The Pacific Hotel, the Sherman House, 


CHICAGO 


31 


the Palmer House, the Bigelow House, the Tremont, 
and many other hotels, had already a world-wide fame 
for sumptuousness and luxury. 



THE PALMER HOUSE. 


Under all the rush of the tide which carried this 
wonderful city on to such magnificent .material pros¬ 
perity, it did not forget to provide for the higher ne¬ 
cessities of the soul. Both its popular and its higher 
education were provided for. Recognizing the value 
of universal education, the city had provided, partly 
through state liberality, a splendid system of common 
school instruction free to every child of every nation- 





















































































































32 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


ality, religion, and condition. In addition, there were 
numerous private schools and academies, both for pri¬ 
mary and higher education, which find ample patronage 
from a people who prize the power of knowledge, and 
despise ignorance as weakness. 

»*. The numerous and spacious edifices which* had 
risen to furnish appliances for the training of its 
youth, were the admiration of even the older civiliza¬ 
tion of the Eastern States. Its charitable institutions 
were ample in their scope and formed upon the model 
of a large and instructed spirit of benevolence. 

Hfr The worship of Almighty God was daily and weekly 
paid in 165 temples, fit shrines for the devout spirit 
of a people in whom the most fervent pursuit of 
money in the walks of trade could not quench the 
love of pure religion and gratitude to the Great Giver 
of all things. 

In art and literature, Chicago was fully abreast of 
the age. Music, the drama, and painting had each its 
temples worthy of the wealth and intelligence of the 
city. In literature, Chicago made advances beyond 
those in the fine arts. It had three of the finest and 
largest book stores in the wo^kb, and sacrificed them 
at a loss of not less than a million of dollars. Their 
combined sales reached $2,500,000 annually. Leaving 
out the sites of the great public libraries, it may be 
said that nowhere on the surface of the globe, within 
an equal area, were condensed such treasures of knowl¬ 
edge as here. Chicago had long been as large a dis¬ 
tributing centre for literature as for grain or lumber; 
it was fast becoming a most important productive 
point. 

The four public libraries of considerable size and 
worth, and probably fifty private libraries worthy of 


CHICAGO 


33 


mention for extent, variety, costliness, or uniqueness, 
were contributing to the literary improvement of the 
people. 

We will not pause to describe in detail the splendid 
blocks which had sprung up on every hand, built both 



THE “ TRIBUNE ” BUILDING. 


by home and foreign capital, many of them rivaling 
in beauty the finest models of architecture in the Old 
World; those beautiful homes, where taste and wealth 
combined their resources to provide elegance and com¬ 
fort ; those public buildings, stored with the trophies 

of genius and the results of scientific research; those 

3 








































































































34 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


sanctuaries, proclaiming the purpose of the people to 
give God the best; together with a myriad tokens of 
prosperity, so many of which are now level with the 
ground, or still stand in unsightliness and ruin to mock 
the pride of man. 

“It is not surprising,” writes J. B. Runnion, “that a 
place built up so rapidly as Chicago had been, should 
present a somewhat incongruous appearance. The 
pineries of the north, which here found their principal 
distributing point, afforded materials for cheap and 
rapid construction. The accessions to the population 
of the city in the early stages of its growth exceeded 
each decade six fold, while in the latter stage it fell 
little short of three. The population thus flowing in 
required shelter, and landlord and tenant alike con¬ 
curred, the one in erecting, and the other in occupying, 
tenements of the most unsubstantial character. It is 
singular how airy these structures were. In the days 
of our boyhood, passed on the Atlantic slope, we re¬ 
collect that the getting together of the materials of a 
house and framing them, was a labor of no small mag¬ 
nitude. There were to be the sills, the studding, the 
joists, the braces, the rafters, and the ridge-pole, all of 
dimension timber; and when the whole was framed, 
the neighbors were called together, and with spike- 
poles they carried up the successive sides. To attend 
a ‘ raising ’ was a notable event. But house-building 
in Chicago was a very different affair. With the ex¬ 
ception of the sills, not a stick of timber entered into 
the construction, which tasked the efforts of two men to 
carry. These structures received the very appropriate 
name of ‘ balloon’ houses; or, in other words, the 
greatest superficial contents with the least amount of 
. material. As business increased, and more massive 


CHICAGO. 


35 


and less inflammable structures were required, these 
houses were moved to the less populous districts; and 
the streets were constantly- obstructed by these pro¬ 
cessions of old and rickety tenements. The school 
section, in the heart of the city, was leased on short 
terms, and the lessees covered it with indifferent 
wooden buildings, which could be moved off on the 
expiration of the leases. No policy could have been 
more short-sighted, so far as related to the substantial 
growth of the city—none so well calculated to bring in 
a meagre revenue. Hence, at an early day Chicago 
acquired the sobriquet of 4 Shanty town; ’ and well did 
she deserve that appellation. At the date of the fire 
there was no city in Christendom which contained such 
a vast mass of combustible material. In European 
cities the term 4 shingle-roof ’ is unknown, and partition 
walls of brick are universal in construction. Hence, a 
single apartment may be burned out, but the idea of 
a fire extending to a square is preposterous. Chicago, 
throughout her whole municipal history, had been 
cursed by a Council and a Board of Public Works who, 
through ignorance or self-will, were utterly indifferent 
to the ordinary precautions against wide conflagra¬ 
tions. They placed no restrictions on the erection of 
two-story wooden buildings in the most valuable por¬ 
tions of the city, and outside of a limited area the 
taste or caprice of the landlord could be indulged 
without any control whatever. The cupola of the 
court house, far above the reach of the water supply, 
was wood; and while the safes and vaults of every 
bank passed through the fiery ordeal comparatively 
unscathed, the records of every town lot and farm, and 
of every judicial decision, were consumed beyond the 
power of recognition. The Water Works, upon which 


36 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the salvation of the city in such an exigency depended, 
were roofed with combustible materials, and no appli¬ 
ances were provided for putting out a fire. These 
events, the happening of which could have been pre¬ 
vented by ordinary precautions, argue a remissness on 
the part of the public authorities amounting to crimi- 
nality.” 

We have thus described with some particularity the 
manner and materials with which whole square miles 
of Chicago were built, in order to account for the lavish 
destruction that was soon to follow, and as a warning 
which should be sounded in every city against the 
use of combustible materials in building all kinds of 
edifices. 

All through the autumn before the events we are 
about to narrate a parching drouth had prevailed 
throughout the whole Northwest. The sky was like 
brass and the earth like ashes. The sun sent forth its 
merciless rays as from some great blast furnace. No 
cloud for weeks obscured the heavens, and the dry 
rainless air had desiccated the soil and the vegetation. 
The roofs of the doomed city, thatched with shingles 
of Michigan pine, ran with the pitch which the sun’s 
heat had fried out from them. 

“ For nearly fifteen weeks,” says the Chicago Journal 
of Commerce , “ there had not fallen enough rain to 
penetrate the earth one full inch. Everything in and 
around the city was heated, dry, and parched. Indeed, 
all through the West, fires were devastating extensive 
forests and destroying ripened crops, driving frontier 
settlers from their cabins and even overwhelming en¬ 
tire villages. For days the prevailing atmosphere of 
the city seemed nearly ready to kindle into a blaze.” 

With such surroundings and antecedents, with a hard 


CHICAGO. 


37 


gale blowing over the city from the hot parched-up 
prairies, we can hardly be surprised that the fire did 
its work with such fearful rapidity at the outset, that 
the efforts of the firemen to master the terrible scourge 
proved wholly unavailing. 

The sun rose brightly on Saturday, October 7th, 
1871—brightly through that serene autumn day it 
shone on the roofs, spires, and domes of the queen city, 
brightly sparkled under the sunbeams the waters of 
the noble lake which laved the wharves and bore the 
tall ships upon its bosom. Hundreds of stately edifices 
and thousands of happy homes stretched for miles out 
upon the low prairie till they dotted the horizon. 
Never with fuller rush and glow did the tide of human 
existence pour through the busy streets all day long 
till evening fell, and that tide dividing into ten thous¬ 
and separate streams, distributed itself into ten thous¬ 
and households, where it would rest and thank God 
upon this day for the blessings He had bestowed. But 
that sun which shone so brightly and the breezes 
which blew so gaily had been for weeks the agents 
preparing the way for the fell destroyer which was to 
make the predestined city his prey. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE FIRST CARNIVAL OF THE FIRE-FIEND. 


The Slumbering City awoke by the Fire-bell in the Night.—The Confla¬ 
gration of Saturday, October 7th.—Its Rapid Progress.—Pine Boards 
and Shingles and the Lesson they taught.—Incidents of the Fire.— 
The Second Conflagration of Sunday, October 8th.—Darkness, Flame 
and Tempest conspire together.—The Track of the Conflagration.— 
The Fight with the Conspirators.—Ruin Incarnate.—Thrilling Inci¬ 
dents. 


G F the sun had prepared the materials for a 
terrible fire, the driving gale which had 
been for some hours steadily surging up 
from the southwest seemed to blow with 
the express and wicked purpose to fan the 
flames. And now everything was ready. 
But the destroying angel was to come in 
the darkness as if to increase the fear and horror of 
the scene he was to disclose. 

On Saturday night, Oct. 7th, 1871, it was appointed 
for man to witness one of the fiercest conflagrations 
that had ever occurred. The fire broke out at about 

38 


































CHICACO. 


39 


eleven o’clock in Lull and Holmes’ planing mill on 
Canal street, near Van Buren, the wind then blow¬ 
ing due north, and the flames consequently spread in 
a northward direction. But soon after the wind veered 
to the northeast, and the flames commenced to rush 
that way. The fire had already spread to the right 
and left, and burnt a distance of two blocks from 
Clinton to the river; but when the‘wind changed 
everything combustible from the east line of Clinton 
to the river, midway between Jackson and Yan Buren 
streets, was swept away by the flames. The space 
which the fire was threatening was covered and sur¬ 
rounded by frame buildings, lumber yards, and sub¬ 
stances almost as inflammable as tinder. In a very 
short time a literal hellish flame surged and roared 
over several squares. The fire department was wholly 
powerless to quench it. Huge billows of fire tossed 
themselves aloft, sweeping north of Jackson street and 
verging toward the very heart of the city. The 
wooden buildings, lumber yards, carpenter shops, frame¬ 
building houses, and saloons, which feebly barred the 
progress of the fire, in less than a quarter of an hour 
were enveloped in the roaring flame. Between the 
railroad tracks and the east side of Canal street lay 
hundreds of tons of anthracite coal. Within the space 
of ten minutes these frail wooden office buildings were 
devoured by the flames, and even the coal mounds 
burst forth into a blaze. On sped the fire under and 
over the Adams Street viaduct, licking up the railings 
and side walks of the iron bridge and devouring the 
timber freight depot of the United States and Adams’ 
Express Co., at the northeast corner of Adams and 
Canal street. The citizens, recognizing the possible 
danger of the fire spreading still further to the east 


40 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


and northeast, worked desperately, for the lire depart¬ 
ment in this locality were unable to operate with any 
chance of success. By tearing down the long shed 
then blazing they sought to preserve the passenger 
cars belonging to the Pittsburg and Fort Wayne Rail¬ 
road Co. At this particular point, working in a storm 
of crimson timbers and through clouds of dun-colored 
smoke their fight with the flames was successful. On 
the south side of Adams street, west of Canal, and 
stretching nearly to Clinton street, the buildings were 
nearly all frame residences, and should the flame estab¬ 
lish itself here, or cross to the north line of wooden 
structures, the consequences would be terrible. 

The firemen fought with desperate energy, turning 
their twelve hoze-nozzles to play upon the leaping bat¬ 
talion of fire which was marching grandly over the 
roofs. The crowd shrank back hundreds of feet before 
the terrible heat, while the brave firemen, like so many 
salamanders, would stand unblenching within a few 
yards of the scorching blaze. They were able only 
to retard, not to prevent the ultimate progress of the 
flame. The spectacle was an appalling one to the 
crowd which packed the Madison Street bridge, as 
they gazed down upon it. The sight indeed was a 
sublime one. The blue sky w'as spangled with the 
sparks and cinders which flew up towards it, and the 
streets far down on the north side, the rigging of the 
tall-masted vessels in the river, and even the sea of 
awe-struck faces were illuminated by the lurid light of 
those tossing billows of flame. 

The horrors of the calamity were heightened by 
the numerous accidents which occurred. While the 
“ Chicago” steam fire engine was playing upon the 
buildings at the northwest corner of Canal and 


CHICAGO. 


41 


Jackson streets, the side of a burning edifice close 
by fell in, giving vent to a whirlwind of flames, which 
enveloped the steamer in an instant. The firemen 
and engineers were compelled to flee for their lives, 
but shortly the fury of the flames spent themselves, 
and they rushed in and pulled the steamer out of the 
reach of the fire. Another accident of a rather seri¬ 
ous nature occurred durum this conflagration. A 
large shed stood at the corner of Clinton and Jackson 
streets, whose roof afforded a splendid view of the 
fire, and was, moreover, easy of access. The crowd 
continued to gather upon it, until it suddenly gave 
way beneath the weight of about 150 persons, and 
the whole structure caved in. A considerable number 
of the victims of this disaster were severely injured, 
none we believe fatally. In one of the lumber yards 
a party of eight men found themselves overwhelmed 
by fire on all sides, and only saved themselves by 
throwing a quantity of lumber into the river, and 
paddling across. 

So rapid was the progress of the flames over the 
combustible material presented in its course, that 
many were obliged to flee for their lives. Most of 
these were poor laborers, who had occupied the con 
sumed frame buildings with their families, or in the 
cheap boarding houses in the burnt quarter. Happily 
no lives are lost so far as is known. But hairbreadth 
escapes were numerous, and of a thrilling nature. 
One of the frail wooden buildings on Jackson street 
had been quitted by its occupants on the morning of 
the fire, the lease having expired. A young man, 
however, who had been boarding in the family, had 
obtained the privilege of sleeping in the house over 
Sunday. Returning from his work Saturday evening, 


42 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


greatly fatigued, he retired to his room, and without 
undressing fell into a sound sleep, from which he was 
awakened only by the suffocating smoke which filled 
his bedchamber from the blazing roof above him. 
He had only time to grope his way out hatless and 
shoeless into the open street, with his hair and 
whiskers singed and his feet severely blistered. 

In another building a child was heard crying pite¬ 
ously for its mother. An heroic fireman rushed 
through the burning hallway and brought out the 
little innocent in safety, amid the cheers of the crowd. 

Thus, under the pulsation of a strong wind, the 
tinder boxes on every side had ignited, and ruin 
rioted for hours over a space of twenty acres, and 
destroyed a million dollars worth of property. Grand 
and awful as this conflagration seemed to the throng¬ 
ing thousands who crowded every approach and 
stand-point where a view could be obtained, it paled 
and faded away in comparison with that of the follow¬ 
ing night; but, as the event proved, this first fire 
saved the remainder of the west division of the city, 
for when the raging element came leaping and 
roaring onward it found nothing to burn, and then 
paused and was stayed, while it rushed across the 
river and satiated itself upon the noblest and best 
portion of the town, east and north. 

Of this eventful period so many writers have 
wrought out descriptions which are unapproachable 
in graphic delineation and powerful word-painting, 
that simple justice to our readers demands that we 
collate from them all that is necessary to present the 
whole mournful subject in its many-sided aspects. 
Like a great battle, with its multitudinous features 
unobservable by any combatant or spectator, this con- 


CHICAGO. 


43 


flagration presented so many phases that each was 
absorbed in what he saw, while matters of unspeakable 
interest were occurring on every side beyond his ken. 
Let, then, many testimonies combine to set forth to 
the gaze of mankind what has, perhaps, never been 
equaled, and certainly never surpassed in the check¬ 
ered experience of humanity. We bring together 
around this terrific scene the sketches of the press 
published in Chicago and elsewhere, and individual 
experience. Language altogether fails to do justice 
to the roar and rush of the elemental forces, combin¬ 
ing to demolish the proudest monuments of American 
enterprise, the glory and boast of our country, and 
the wonder of the world. All things concurred to 
make this the climax of triumph for the fire-fiend. 

“ Sunday evening,” says a contemporary writer, 
u seemed to have been designed purposely for a repe¬ 
tition of the horrors of Moscow, or as the calamitous 
and piteous spectacle of old London. A strong wind, 
rising at times to a hurricane, blew across the city. 
Every roof was baked dry as tinder by fourteen 
rainless weeks. The power to disseminate, and the 
readiness to receive were there, and but one spark 
was needed to blot out a city, and blacken the prairie 
with houseless heads.” 

The churches were just dismissing their devout 
worshipers after evening services when the fire bells 
rang their loud alarm. The embers of the fire of the 
evening before still glared in the darkness, and people 
were easily roused to intense alarm. Many hastened 
from the House of God to the scene of the fire, fear¬ 
ing that the high wind might imperil even larger 
districts of the city. None dared to dread any such 
devastation as that which followed. 


u 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


It was at 9.32 p.m. that the first alarm was 
sounded. The fire brigade by that dread sound was 
summoned to the corner of Jefferson and De Koven 
streets. 



WHERE THE GREAT FIRE BEGAN. 


Of the origin of this fire Mr. William S. Walker 
writes as follows:— 

“ The fact that early in the history of the blaze, and 
while its hot breath had only withered to their 
foundations a few of the rookeries in its immediate 
neighborhood, historical Mrs. Leary admitted that the 
fire had its origin in the manner popularly under¬ 
stood, is answer enough to the unreasonable doubts 
which have been thrown upon the story. Standing 
in the yard of her house—situated near the corner of 













































CHICAGO. 


45 


De Koven and Jefferson streets—this lady held forth 
exasperatingly to police, spectators curious, and 
reporters. Here it was that she implored maledic¬ 
tions dire upon the villainous bovine whose wretched 
hoofs had snuffed out her barn, and started the flames 
which were now licking savagely toward the river. 

According to her statements in the early stages of 
the fire, and the reiterated assertions of her friends, 
she had taken an ordinary kerosene lamp, at about 
half-past nine o’clock in the evening of the fatal 
Sunday of October 8 in order to look after her ailing 
ruminant. Reaching the barn, she placed the light 
upon the flooring, and was on the point of putting a 
little feed into the manger when the cow sprawled 
out her heels in token of satisfaction. 

“ An explosion; a sharp, brisk spreading of the 
burning oil; hay and straw eager to hand the flames 
up to the roof; in short, a barn on fire. 

u The woman hastened in feminine frenzy from the 
ricketty structure to alarm the neighbors; but before 
the desired assistance could be laid hold upon there 
had been consummated an alliance of the riotous 
elements which only He who holdeth a world in the 
hollow of His hand could dissolve. It was an alliance 
of fire and tornado; a joining of hideous natural 
forces in a wild compact of destruction all the more 
appalling when we remember the contemptible means 
by which the union was effected. To be sure, in the 
sadly ludicrous fright of the succeeding days, this 
account of the beginning of the conflagration was 
stoutly denied by the walling madame. But as a 
whimsical fright, lest herself and her lord might be 
compelled to foot the bill of some hundred millions of 
dollars’ worth of incremated property, was acknow- 


40 FIGHTING FIRE. 

leclgecl to be behind these denials, her first and less- 
biased asservations must be accepted as the more 
honest ones.” 



MRS. LEARY’S COW. 


“ This is the cow at the Leary back gate, 

As she stood on the night of October the 8, 

With her old crumpled horn and belligerent hoof, 

Warning all “ neighbor women ” to keep well aloof. 

Ah ! this is the cow with the crumpled horn 
That kicked over the lamp that set fire to the barn 
That caused the Great Fire in Chicago ! ” 

Already the flame had enveloped half a dozen out¬ 
buildings, and was pouring itself upon the city to the 
southward and eastward with the steady and restless 
movement of a conquering host. 

To resist it was impossible. The firemen could 
only check its northward progress. Their heroic 
efforts were in vain. The flames seemed to divide 



































































































































































































CHICAGO. 


47 


themselves into detachments, which ran along the 
wooden sidewalks and into a dozen tenements, which 
would burst into flames as if a host of incendiaries 
were at work. A motley crowd jammed the streets. 
The fire brigade occupied the front. Behind them 
were young and active men, who sought to lend a 
hand in the general calamity, while at a distance a 
vast crowd collected composed of strangers, old men 
and women of all ages, who gazed in silent horror 
upon the scene. The occupants and owners of the 
burning buildings ran hither and thither distractedly 
as stalwart men tore furniture to pieces in the furious 
haste with which they flung it out of doors, or 
dragged it through the crowd. And still the element 
pursued its victorious progress. Driven back by the 
gushes of flame the firemen could only cover their 
eyes from the blinding heat and stagger desperately 
to safety through the burning belt that fringed them 
round, abandoning their engines. Two great columns 
of fire advanced to the northward, one between 
Jefferson and Clinton streets, the other between 
Clinton and Canal streets. The latter led the way, 
and as one o’clock struck, had seized the buildings on 
Van Buren street, while the other was spreading more 
slowly along West Harrison. 

Like a well-whipped, but unconquered foe, the fire 
department slowly retreated; but they stubbornly 
contested every foot of ground, however, and would 
not surrender, although often almost entirely sur¬ 
rounded by the dread enemy. Then they would cut 
their way out, and retreat for a short distance, only to 
turn again and hurl their charges of thousands of 
gallons of water full into the face of the enemy; but 
no power on earth could stem the torrent. Never 


48 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


did fireman fight more fiercely to conquer, and never 
before did their heroic efforts seem so utterly in vain- 
Polk street was reached, and here a desperate stand 
was made. One steamer, the Frank Sherman, stood 
at the plug on the corner of Polk and Clinton streets 
until the heat had scorched hair from the impatient 
horses’ limbs, and the brave engineer and the plucky 



FIGHTING IT BEHIND THE BARRICADES. 


stoker had almost lost all their whiskers. Then the 
word was given to retreat and run. As they went 
the pipeman faced the foe, and shouted to the driver 
to stop at the first plug and let them at it again. 
Hope street proved a sad misnomer for the firemen, 
and the poor folks who lived thereon, like those 
entering Dante’s hell, were forced to leave all hope 
behind. 

And now, to add to the terrible reality of the dread 
scene, it was discovered that a building was on fire 




































CHICAGO. 


49 


away to the rear. Between Gurley and Harrison 
streets a barn was all ablaze, and before a steamer 
could reach the spot, other bams innumerable were 
fiercely burning. It was the onslaught of a cavalry 
corps on the retreating army's rear, and all seemed 
hopeless. There was one thing noticeable, however, 
and worthy of special mention. The fierce wind had 
veered around toward the west somewhat, and now 
the fire was skipping some houses on the western 
outskirts of the block bounded by Jefferson and 
Clinton streets. To be sure there were not many of 

4/ 

these escapes, but the fact was apparent, and it 
cheered the soul of every one. Every one seemed to 
think that it would surely stop at the river, so far as 
the eastern wing of the advancing flame was con¬ 
cerned, and now that the western wing seemed wil¬ 
ling to be lenient, it only depended on its front when 
a permanent check would be placed upon it. It was 
only about three blocks to Van Buren street, and here 
commenced the burnt district of the night before. 
No one supposed it would be able to go farther in 
that direction. There was nothing for it to feed upon. 
The four blocks of fire which had raffed with such 

o 

fierceness on Saturday night, had left no supplies for 
the invaders, and its further march would either have 
to stop or continue over a barren desert. This latter 
could not be, and more and more hopeful grew the 
immense concourse of citizens. 

Across Harrison street and Tyler street, and along 
Yan Buren street, the monster ran, carrying destruc¬ 
tion in its fiery course. At the approach to Van 
Buren street bridge stood the steamer Fred Gund, a 
first class Amoskeag engine, with a complement of 
officers and men in skill and daring second to none in 
4 


50 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the land. The steamer was completely surrounded 
by fire, and for their very lives the boys were forced 
to fly. They left their engine, but they have the 
proud consciousness of knowing she went down in a 
sea of fire, with steam up, and while fiercely fighting 
the advancing foe. Here and there, and almost 
everywhere, lay thousands of feet of hose, stretched 
to its utmost tension with watery ammunition, which 
the powerful engines were constantly throwing on the 
blaze. 

It might be of interest here to note the peculiari¬ 
ties of the wind currents and their effects, which 
were such as could only have been produced by such 
a conflagration as is being described. During all this 
time, as during the entire continuance of the fire, the 
wind was blowing a gale from a southerly direction, 
and above the tops of the buildings its course from 
midnight until four or five o’clock varied but little, 
not veering more than one or two points of the 
compass. 

To the observer on the street, however, traversing 
the main thoroughfares and the alleys, the wind 
would seem to come from every direction. This is 
easily explained. New centres of intense heat were 
being continually formed, and the sudden rarification 
of the air in the different localities, and its consequent 
displacement, caused continually artificial currents, 
which swept around the corners and through the 
alleys in every direction, often with the fury of a 
tornado. This will account partly for the rapid 
widening of the tracks of devastation from their apex 
to -the Lake, as well as the phenomenon of fire—to 
use a nautical term—“ eating into the wind.” 

How it was that while even a hundred buildings 



CHICAGO 


51 


might be blazing, others, far in advance of the track 
of the storm, could not be protected, has not been 
understood by those who were not despairingly 
following the course of destruction. It was partly on 
account of the artificial currents already mentioned, 
and because the huge tongues of flame actually 
stretched themselves out upon the pinions of the wind 
for acres. Sheets of fire would reach over entire 
blocks, wrapping in every building inclosed by the 
four streets bounding them, and scarcely allowing the 
dwellers in the houses time to dash away unscorched. 

The conflagration now hung upon the blackened 
and rugged skirts of last night’s ruin. Beyond the 



FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH—SOUTH SIDE. 

open space of the old burnt area was the river, and 
beyond that were the noble and princely stone edifices 
which formed the business heart of Chicago. 



































































































52 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Here all thought the fire king would bow to circum¬ 
stances too powerful for its fury. But suddenly there 
fell upon the sturdy complacency of the city an incu¬ 
bus so appalling that all its troubles in the past became 
insignificant. Hardly pausing to take breath the allied 
terrors of tempest and flame had leaped in full carni¬ 
val over into the South Division. 

The scene now baffles all description. When once 
the “ fire had overleaped the narrow river and lodged 
itself in the very heart of the south division/’ says 
the Post, “the angry bell tolled out, and in a moment 
the bridges were choked with a roaring, struggling 
crowd, through which the engines cleft a difficult way 
toward the new peril. 

“ The wind had piled up a pyramid of rustling flame 
and smoke into the mid air. Lower currents at times 
varied and drove tides of fire athwart the great roar¬ 
ing stream. When these met, eddies that made the 
eye dizzy were formed, which sucked up blazing brands 
and embers into their momentary whirl, and flung 
them earthward. In such a fiery maelstrom had a 
shower of sparks and large fragments of detached 
roofing been hurled into the neighborhood of the old 
armory.” 

The skirmishing was over, and man and fire were 
now grappling in earnest where the prize was millions 
of money and hundreds of lives. 

When once the fire had established itself in the 
South Division the task of following the course or 
describing its ravages in detail became an utter impos¬ 
sibility. As well might a private soldier endeavor to 
paint Waterloo, Sedan, or Gravelotte. All that the 
writer can say is, that everybody was mad, and every¬ 
thing was hell. The earth and sky were fire and 
flames; the atmosphere was smoke. 





























































































































































































































































































































































nicate with tiie shipping and destroy the grain elevators. 






































































































































































































































CHICAGO. 


57 


A perfect hurricane was blowing, and drew the fiery 
billows with a screech through the narrow alleys be¬ 
tween the tall buildings as if it were sucking them 
through a tube ; great sheets of flame literally flapped 
in the air like sails on ship-board. A fireman was 
caught full in the face, gulped the fiery draught, and 
dropped a corpse upon the pavement. The side-walks 
were all ablaze, and the fire ran along them almost as • 
rapidly as a man could walk. The wooden-block 
pavements, filled with an inflammable composition, 
were burning in parallel lines like a gridiron. Showers 
of sparks, intermingled with blazing brands, were 
borne aloft by one eddy of the breeze, and rained 
down into the street by the next, while each glowed 
a moment and was gone, or burned sullenly, like the 
glare of an angry eye. 

Roofing became detached in great sheets, and drove 
down the sky like huge blazing arrows. The dust 
and smoke filled one’s eyes and nostrils with bitter 
and irritating clouds. There was fire everywhere— 
under foot, over head, and around. It ran along 
tindery roofs, it sent out curling wisps of blue smoke 
from under eaves, it smashed glass with an angry 
crackle, and gushed out in a torrent of red and black; 
it climbed in delicate tracery up the fronts of buildings, 
licking up with a serpent tongue little bits of wood 
work; it burst through roofs with a rattling rush, and 
hung out towering blood red signals of victory. The 
flames were of all colors, pale pink, gold, scarlet, crim¬ 
son, blood hued, amber. In one place, on a tower 
covered with galvanized iron sheets, the whole roof 
burned of a light green, while the copper nails were 
of a beautiful sparkling ruby. 

Over all was the frowning sky, covered with clouds 



58 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


varied by an occasional undazzled star. The brute 
creation was crazed. The horses, maddened by heat 
and noise, and irritated by falling sparks, neighed and 
screamed with affright and anger, and reared, and 
kicked, and bit each other, or stood with drooping 
tails and rigid legs, ears laid back, and eyes wild with 
amazement, shivering with cold. The dogs ran wildly 
. hither and thither, snuffing eagerly at every one, and 
occasionally sitting down on their haunches to howl 
dismally. 

When there was a lull in the fire, far away dogs 
could be heard barking, and cocks crowing at the un¬ 
wonted light. Cats ran along ridge poles in the bright 
glare, and came pattering into the street with dropsical 
tails. Great brown rats with bead-like eyes were fer¬ 
reted out from under the side-walks by the flames, and 
scurried hither and thither along the streets, kicked at, 
trampled upon, hunted down. 

Flocks of beautiful pigeons, so plentiful in the city, 
wheeled into the air aimlessly, circled blindly once or 
twice, and were drawn into the maw of the fiery hell 
raging beneath. The firemen labored like heroes. 
Grimy, dusty, hoarse, soaked with water, time after 
time they charged up to the blazing foe, only to be 
driven back to another position by its increasing fierce¬ 
ness, or to abandon as hopeless their task. 

Or, while hard at work, suddenly the wind would 
shift, a puff of smoke would come from a building be¬ 
hind them, followed by belching flames, and then they 
would see that they were outflanked. There was 
nothing for it then but to gather up the hose, pull 
helmets down on their heads, and with voice and lash 
to urge the snorting horses through the flame to safety 
beyond. 


CHICAGO. 


59 


Long before the fire obtained its foothold in this 
part of the town, the savage blasts had been madly at 
work dashing blazing emissaries, from the melting 
structures in the West Division, along the almost de¬ 
serted ways of the business centre of the city. 

The materials were all ready for the blast and the 
air of the furnace was already sucking through the 
huge flues of streets and avenues. 

The bridges and shipping in the river afforded a su¬ 
perb transit for the flames, and the crossings at Van 
Buren, Polk, and Adams streets, were soon frameworks 
of fire. From these blazing in a raging wind, there 
was no lack of fiery communication from the west to 
the south side. 

When the fire leaped the south bank of the Chicago 
river, it revelled among the very same combustible 
material as it had devoured on the west side; coal, 
lumber, planing mills, frame houses, &c. It attacked 

the Armory and licked 
up every thing in it, sur¬ 
rounded the gas works 
and exploded the gas¬ 
ometer ; the firemen 
would hardly obtain a 
good position, when the 
flames, rushing along 
as fast as a man could 
walk, would drive them 
before it, and it was 
with difficulty that they 
could save their en¬ 
gines, so that finally it 
became extremely dangerous to oppose the fire. 
“Marble buildings,” says a Chicago paper, “were 



REPUBLIC LIFE INS. CO. 

































































60 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


burned to quicklime, crumbled, fell, and disappeared 
as though they were mere toys of children. Thus 
onward rushed the flames, advancing north and east 
with great rapidity, and ‘ eating,’ even against the’ 
wind, steadily south.” 

At about one o’clock in the morning the tar works 
belonging to the South Division Gas Manufactory, sit¬ 
uated on Adams street, near the Armory, were ignited. 
The firemen were well nigh exhausted ; their engines 
were disabled, and the buildings upon which the fire 
had now fallen were of an extremely combustible na¬ 
ture. 

In less than five minutes an entire square of build- 
in gs was in flames. Once more the fire monarch di- 
vided his forces; one corps d’armee defiled swiftly to- 
wards the east, the other sped away to the north. The 
first was soon across Fifth avenue, and from thence 
moved upon the architectural grandeur of La Salle 
street. The other dashed unchecked toward the no 
less noble structures that lined Monroe, Madison, and 
Washington streets. 

The crowd had now become a rabble. The police 
were powerless and fell back before the roaring mob 
who crowded upon fences, high sidewalks, and every 
coigne of vantage, from which, seized with a wild and 
causeless panic, they would surge backwards and for¬ 
wards through the narrow streets, cursing, threatening, 
imploring, and fighting to get free. 

Wretched women, with sodden faces and ra^cred 
drapery tied over their heads, emerged from low dens 
and scurried away like foul birds of ill-omen. One 
woman in Adams street was drawn out of a burning 
house three times and rushed back wildly into the 
flames, insane for the moment. 


CHICAGO. 


61 


Everywhere was dust, smoke, flame, heat, thunder 
of falling buildings, the crackling of the conflagration, 
hissing of water, panting of engines, shouts, braying of 
trumpets,' roar of wind, tumult, confusion, and uproar, 
a pandemonium, indeed, over which the black sky 
above bent frowningly. 

A score of fires were now blazing at once; the 
Union Bank and the Oriental Building were on fire, 
the Chamber of Commerce, the Sherman House, and 
the Court House were threatened. 

Towering up above the fire stood the Sherman 
House, glaring at the fire with its hundreds of win¬ 
dows and seeming to defy its power. Though the 
roof and wood-work smoked and steamed, yet for 
nearly an hour the house held its own. All at once a 
gust of flame shot from a window in the third story 
on the south face, another and another followed, and 
in fifteen minutes, from every window a fiery pennon 
streamed out and flapped against the outside walls, 
while crooked wreaths of black smoke twisted around 
the eaves and met above the roof, where the flames 
were already bursting through. 

We borrow an extract from the graphic pen of Mr. 
W. S. Walker respecting the burning of the Sherman 
House: 

“The scenes at the destruction of the Sherman 
House were marvelously thrilling! Upwards of three 
hundred guests were lodged in the house. At the 
time the fire approached, there were left in active 
charge only the night clerk and an assistant. The 
night clerk was not by any means the consequential 
hotel employee of the period, but was a cool, ener¬ 
getic young man, with a remarkable fund of good 
sense. Of the three hundred guests, a large number 


62 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


were ladies, unaccompanied by male escort; and of 
these, five were so sick as to be confined to their beds. 
The night clerk, having sometime before secured the 
valuable papers of the place, proceeded, with his assist¬ 
ant, to arouse every sleeper in the house. The lone 
women were promptly conveyed to the lake shore 
and there placed in charge of policemen, who took 
them beyond reach of further danger. The sick 
ladies were placed in hacks by the omnipresent night 
clerk and were being driven away, when, followed by 
his assistant, and seized with a terrible suspicion, he 
rushed after and stopped them. An instantaneous 
counting of thin, pallid faces, and, lo! only four 
women were there ! Five had certainly been recorded 
in the sick book of the house. It was then remem¬ 
bered that one poor lady was still remaining. Back 
into the now trembling structure dashed the two 
young men, one of them snatching from a fireman 
an axe as he passed. Up the stairways and through 
the smoke-reeking halls they groped, until the door 
desired was reached. Two lusty blows, and in it 
crashed, revealing the woman half raised in terror 
from the bed. It was the first intimation of the 
horrible danger that she had received. A word of 
explanation, and she had directed them to the closet 
where hung a dress and cloak of uncommonly heavy 
stuff. • A pitcher and basin, fortunately full of water, 
served to drench these garments and the main quilt 
of the bed, and in them was quickly wrapped the 
invalid. Portions of the soaked clothing were then 
thrown over their own heads, and, in a space of time 
hardly longer than it has taken to pen this episode, 
these heroes, than whom no braver shine upon the 
admired annals of the ages agone, had instinctively 


CHICAGO. 


63 


found their way through the familiar passages of the 
house into the street. When the writer saw them 
placing the fainting woman in a carriage, portions of 
their clothing had been burned into sieve-like perfora¬ 
tions, and the hand of one was badly scorched. The 
hotel in a moment, after folded itself to the glowing 
foundations, and was among the most complete wrecks 
of the night” 

Thus the twin columns of tire each bored its way 
with a fiery impetus through the core of one of the 
fairest cities on the globe. 

Following- in the wake of the eastward moving 
column of fire with sorrowful eyes, the despairing 
spectators saw it storm up to the Pacific Hotel. 

This magnificent edifice, six stories high, and 
covering a whole block, was built upon the latest and 
most approved precepts of hotel architecture. The 
roof had just been placed upon it, and it was hoped 
that ere another year should dawn the establishment 
would be ready to receive the approval of nations as 
the best hotel, all things considered, in America. 

The fire seemed in an instant to encompass it, 
leaping up on either side, the billows of flame meeting 
and buffeting each other on the lofty roof, while the 
intense rarefaction of the air created whirlwinds in 
which the fire and smoke were tossed hundreds of'feet 
towards the sky. In the same manner the vast depot 
of the Michigan Southern Railroad was seized by the 
devouring element and reduced to a pile of ashes in 
the short space of thirty minutes. 

Fire and tempest, hand in hand, with their appetite 
sharpened by the feast among the cheap and frail 
buildings of the west division, had chewed and swal¬ 
lowed up these two immense piles, and now maddened, 


64 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


swept down La Salle, and across to Clark street, 
clearing the Chamber of Commerce, Farwell Hall, 
and row upon row of beautiful marble and stone 
structures intervening. 

Gunpowder was now called into use, and a succes¬ 
sion of loud explosions 
was heard, hurling into 
the air, one by one, the 
most massive and ornate 
of the trade palaces. 
Over the dark chasm 
that the powder hewed 
out, the flames would, 
after a brief hesitancy, 
leap and seize the build¬ 
ing on the other side 
of the gulf, licking it 
about in an instant till 
its roof and walls would break and topple to the 
ground. 

Just here occurred one of those thrilling incidents, 
the recital of which has harrowed up so many hearts 
throughout the land. A private watchman had been 
engaged by one of the large mercantile firms on 
Sunday, and instructed to watch over the property in 
a massive stone warehouse on Monroe street. The 
building was deemed fire proof. Its patent iron shut¬ 
ters had been rolled up and secured in their places, 
the doors bolted and locked, the keys committed to 
the care of the porter, and the only means of egress 
from the building was through a small iron door, of 
which the watchman kept the key. As he stood in 
the door, watching the progress of the flames, an 
explosion near by threw a mass of stones and debris 



































































CHICAGO. 


# 


65 


directly in front of this door, completely shutting it 
up, and the same explosion broke the gas pipes that 
led to the building. The faithful fellow was shut up 
in darkness and despair. He sought in vain to pene¬ 
trate the heavy blocks of stone which barred the door. 
He shouted and screamed and beat on iron shutters 
which already were growing hot with the advancing 
flames. The roar of the fire drowned his cries, the 
air of his living tomb grew dense and stifling; he lay 
down at last upon the floor and gave himself up to 
death. Presently a more deafening explosion was 
heard. A huge block flying as if propelled out of a 
Paixhan gun, straight against the ruin, piled against 
the door, shattering and scattering it on every side. A 
gush of hot air poured into the doorway; in a moment 
a stream of water from the nozzle of a steamer struck 
the face of the already insensible victim, who had just 
strength left to rise and totter to the door, tell his story, 
and fell a corpse into the arms of a fireman. 






% 



THE FIRE FIEND ENCIRCLED THE CITY. 


CHAPTER III 


PROGRESS OF THE FIRE KING. 


The Colors of Tartarus—The Apathy of Despair Seizing the People— 
Following in the Track of Desolation—The Sweep of the Conflagration 
—The Crowd becomes a Rabble—Dreadful Scenes—The Fall of the 


Sherman House—A Thrilling Incident—A General Jail Delivery of 
Thieves and Murderers—The Destruction of the Water Works—A 
Delirious Victim—A Chapter of Adventures and Escapes. 



v 

firmament. 


HE heavens seemed now to be metamor- 
^ ‘ phosed into the realms of Pluto. All the 

colors with which the poets have described 
the infernal pit met and mingled. Dun 
clouds of smoke and flame, red, yellow, 
and blue, rolled through the suffocating 
ether, and marred the glory of the 


( 66 ) 















CHICAGO. 


67 


A spell appeared to have possessed the minds of 
the powerless crowd. The terrible and irresistible 
force of the conflagration seemed to stupefy the 
people. While a few still worked with Titanic 
energy to save something from the impending ruin, 
by far the larger number gazed listlessly upon the 
scene, as if they were the spectators of some heart¬ 
rending tragedy. Men who, in the face of ordinary 
conflagrations, would have imperilled life and limb to 
preserve their own goods and those of their neighbors, 
stood calmly by, and passed quaint, terse jokes upon 
the excellence of the show. “ It burns well; ” “ Chi¬ 
cago couldn’t have even a fire on a halfway scale; ” 
66 It lays over anything in history,” is the embodiment 
of the comments that were bandied. It did appear as 
if the consoling balm of local importance and patriot¬ 
ism was dripping into every wounded fortune, and 
the fact that Chicago was bound to have a tip-top 
advertisement out of it somewhat compensated for the 
swift entailing misery. 

While under those powerful narcotics, horror and 
despair, many had succumbed, standing by in a state 
of stupefaction, or bandying feeble jokes in the midst 
of hysterical laughter, the fire fiend paused not in his 
merciless career. 

How a double column of blazing destruction started 
at right angles from the initial point of the south 
division, at the tar works, has been noted'. As they 
swayed along in search of further prey, these two 
columns threw out constant flanking lines of fire, 
filling in the streets, avenues, and alleys, in systematic 
order. 

The northward-moving column passed with fiery 
feet up Market, Wells, Franklin, and La Salle streets; 


G8 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


devouring the cheaper buildings on the river ends of 
Jackson, Quincy, and Adams’ streets, crunching up 
the Nevada Hotel, crumpling the stony approach to 
the east end of the world-renowned Washington 
Tunnel, and sweeping out of existence alike the 
dingy sailor boarding houses, the dens of doubtful 
repute, and the more solid dimensions of the banking, 
commercial, and insurance houses that lay in its way. 

The coal yards, piled with their winter stock from 
the Pennsylvania Mines, were now penetrated by the 
flames, and burst at last into a lurid, sulphurous blaze, 
as if to give a foreshadow of the infernal pit. 

The Nevada Hotel, swarming with boarders, princi¬ 
pally clerks and attaches of the theatres and journals, 
next disappeared in the flames, which soon made a 
detour towards the lake, sweeping away the mammoth 
elevators, the Lumber Exchange, and innumerable 
warehouses crammed with the products of the world— 
the teas of China, the wines of France, and the staple 
viands of Orient. 

The insatiate maw of the fire soon after was glutted 
with the substantial accumulations of Lake street, a 
business avenue, which for gorgeous trade palaces, 
and for the value of their storied contents, was capable 
of challenging any equal extent of thoroughfare in 
the land. 

Near the lake end of this street several excellent 
hotels—the Massasoit, the Adams, the Richmond, and 
the Tremont—fell before the destroyer, which sped on 
to seize that monster pile, the Illinois Central Depot, 
with which it wrestled long and powerfully, to over¬ 
throw it at last. 

Darting through Randolph street, it made a merry 
meal of the Briggs , Metropolitan, Matteson House ? 


CHICAGO 


69 

Wood’s Museum, and many a stately house of 
business. 

The court house had caught fire thrice, and each 
time the fire had been extinguished. Finally, it caught 
such a hold that the tower had to be abandoned. The 
prisoners in the county jail, almost suffocated with 
smoke, ran to the doors of their cells and shook them, 



CHAMBER OF COMMERCE AND COURT-HOUSE. 


uttering shrieks of terror. Five murderers, double- 
ironed, scowled out of the windows of their dungeons 
and muttered curses. Meanwhile, the bell still clanged, 
the flames lit up the faces of the great clock, and the 
building glowed within and without like a furnace. 
At 3.10 A. M. the dome sunk a little, reeled, and then • 
fell with a tremendous crash. 

5 



























































70 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


As soon as it became evident that the Court House 
was doomed to destruction, the prisoners confined there 
were let loose, all except the five murderers, who were 
handcuffed and marched away to a place of security. 
Beneath the very walls of that blazing prison the lib¬ 
erated thieves plied their nefarious trade, and robbed 
a wagon full of clothing that happened to be passing 
at the time. The police fell upon them and dispersed 
them, but they soon renewed their pillaging in other 
quarters. 

The conflagration still pitilessly pursued its swift 
career—sweeping away the block on which stood 
Hooley’s Opera House, the Bryant & Chase Business 
College, the Republican Office, and other hardly less 
noted structures, and then sped on to a fresh banquet 
upon the St. James Hotel and Crosby’s Opera House. 

“In this building/’ writes Mr. Walker, “there were 
stored the instruments of three of the largest piano 
houses in the country, art treasures almost invaluable, 
and the works of decorators who had for several months 
been laboring lavishly at the beautifying of the audi¬ 
torium. In the renovation of this auditorium the sum 
of $80,000 had just been expended, and the place, at 
the breaking out of the fire, stood complete, the finest 
temple of Thespis and Thalia in America. A luxury- 
loving public, who had anxiously read of its fair pro¬ 
portions, were to have pronounced upon its beauties 
on the night of its destruction. It was to have been 
formally re-dedicated on that same evening by the 
Thomas Orchestra, every seat having been sold a week 
before. Many of the more valuable paintings stored 
in this establishment were saved, but the number of 
dollars consumed in choice pictures alone stepped a 
long way into the thousands; while in the fall of the 


CHICAGO. 


71 

building and the perishing of its contents, there went 
down a valuation of over half a million.” In State 
street five newspaper offices were destroyed, Reynold’s 
Block, the Dearborn Theatre, and many mammoth 
mercantile houses. 

Hope was the father of a theory that even now the 
business centre of the city would be left unharmed. 
One of the lines of fire moving eastward was under¬ 
stood to have spent its violence. The other, it was 
confidently expected, would soon be subjugated. 

Along the east side of State street, where stood some 
of the loftiest marts in the city, and on Wabash and 
Michigan avenues, it was considered that comparative 
safety was insured. Precautions, however, had been 
taken to remove large quantities of the more valuable 
goods to the open spaces of Dearborn Park, the Base- 
ball grounds, and the lake front, where they would 
presumably be safe. And yet this very point was 
doomed to be the conveying point of the two columns 
of fire which had parted from each other at the tar 
works. Both these columns accomplished their work 
in a vindictively thorough and accurate manner. That 
which swept towards the lake from the southern end 
of Michigan Avenue depot had been slower in its 
labors. After sweeping away the shabbier structures 
of Third and Fourth avenues, it crept stealthily but 
surely onward until De Haven’s block and the tall 
magnificence of the Bigelow House and Honore’s two 
massive buildings had crumbled to ashes. 

And now was it day or was it night ? Time for the 
sun to rise by the almanac! yet no one had seen the 
sun that day. The glorious orb was veiled behind the 
murky smoke-clouds and amid a light such as never 
shone on sea or land the destroying angel flapped his 
fiery wings and pursued his strong level flight. 


72 


FIGHTING FIRE 


From the Bigelow House to the Academy of Design 
was less than a block, a brief space for the winged 
giant to measure. In that building were gathered 
together some of the noblest works of art America 
could boast. Among them was a new work by Bier- 
stadt, valued at $15,000, dozens of precious pieces by 
leading artists of other cites and the studios of more 
than twenty painters, with most of their contents. 
Rothermel’s great canvas, "The Battle of Gettysburg,” 



RUINS OF NEW ENGLAND CHURCH—CONGREGATIONAL. 

was cut from its frame and saved just as the flames 
were lapping up with their broad tongues the other 
choice morsels of art. The Palmer House, one of 
the youngest as well as one of the most famous of 
Chicago’s "Houses of Call,” fell at nearly the same 
time with the Academy of Design. 





























CHICAGO. 


73 


We borrow from Bev. E. J. Goodspeed the following 
graphic account of the burning of these last two build¬ 
ings: 

“ It might be nine o’clock, and the Palmer House 
was still untouched. An imnosino; edifice, surrounded 
by an ocean of fire, its lofty three storied Mansard 
roof, with five stories beneath it, rose supreme over 
all other buildings near by. But, soon after this hour, 
from pavement to roof it was one sheet of flame. Its 
walls swayed and trembled as the wind roared against 
its projecting portico, its windows and doorways belch¬ 
ing forth to the north long spikes of red flame, forked, 
like ten thousand serpents, reaching and lapping the 
walls of the Academy building as in horrid derision. 
The hotel, thus covered with a sheet of flame, its interior 
all red and dazzling with inextinguishable fires, the 
walls of the Academy, only a few feet off, were heated, 
and the lower windows and doorways penetrated by 
an element as irresistible as fate. Was there any hope 
now left for the Academy ? Soon, through its broken 
windows, down through its noble expanse of skylight, 
came the whirlwind of flames and murky elements, 
down crushed timbers and walls, stair cases, pictures, 
casts, all the precious works that filled the studios of 
absent artists, now all on fire, and adding intensity and 
grandeur to the whirling volcano of the interior—a 
blackened, burned mass of art ruins for one moment, 
then shot up a sharp, dazzling spire of red flame, far 
into the impending smoke-cloud that rolled like a pall 
over the expiring structure, as though to proclaim a 
savage triumph over the fond hopes and labors of 
genius.” 

When it was nearly daylight, the water supply had 
given out, but no one in the south part of the city 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


74 

observed that the water had ceased because, a mile and 
a half away, the walls of the water-works had tumbled 
upon the engines. People merely supposed that the 
tire engines had exhausted the supply. Strange as it 
may seem, although the water-works were uninjured 
at the time when the tire seized the north side of the 
river, yet soon after they ceased to supply water. 
Those who believe that a city can depend upon an 
engine-supplied reservoir for its supply of water may 
derive a good lesson from this circumstance. The 
water-works structure was believed to be tire-proof, 
and yet it contained no small amount of wood-work. 
The sweeping, surging ocean of flame had already 

traveled at least three 
miles in six hours, and 
now the flying brands 
and sparks set tire to 
the roof immediately 
above the engine room. 
This was immediately 
extinguished, but soon 
after the great brewe¬ 
ries close by burst into 
roaring flames, which 
darted their tongues of 
ruins of crosby’s distillery, fire over the turreted 

roof of the water¬ 
works building. Within the atmosphere • became 
heated to a degree that rendered it almost impossible 
for the workmen and engineers to perform their 
duties through danger of suffocation. At last the fire 
burst through the roof above their heads, and they 
w r ere compelled to abandon the building, having first 
stopped the machinery in order that it might be in- 































CHICAGO. 


75 


jured as little as possible, and the safety valves were 
raised in order that the ponderous boilers might not 
burst. Then the immense roof crumbled in upon the 
mammoth engines, and for ten days and ten nights, 
three hundred thousand people suffered from the want 
of pure water, even for cooking purposes, many being 
obliged to content themselves with the water from the 
river. Happily, the canal had lately been deepened, 
which caused the cool, pure water of the lake to flow 
towards the Mississippi; and the south branch of the 
river was sweet and pure compared to what it had been 
one year ago. Even at this time, however, it was 
water to be used only in cases of necessity. 

Tongues of flame darted across the street opposite 
one of the burning breweries and licked the shingle 
roof of a tenement house opposite. At the window 
of this house stood a poor gibbering wretch in the last 
stages of delirium tremens. In vain the crowd shouted 
to him to come down and save himself; he paid no 
heed to their cries, but moaned and pointed with his 
finger at some imaginary object more terrible to him 
than the terrible reality before his eyes; then turn¬ 
ing and shrieking wildly he rushed back out of sight 
of the agonized spectators. A moment later the roof 
of the building fell, burying the unfortunate in its 
blazing ruins. 

From the buildings three, four, and five stories high, 
the sparks and burning charcoal of the wooden cupolas 
of the breweries were blown blocks northward, setting 
fire to the buildings on which they fell. On the west 
the closely-built wooden frame buildings, having no 
brick walls to temporarily stay their progress, seemed 
to surrender instantaneously to the raging fire-fiend 
that did not crawl, but seemed to rush upon them with 


76 


FIGHTING FIRE 


unrestrainable fury. All seemed to be immersed in a 
hell of flame. No attempts were made to stem the 
progress of the fire. All that the tenants of the houses 
could do was to save a few of their household goods, 
and this, too, at the risk of their lives. The scene 
was rendered still more terrible and despairing by the 
fact that, during the earlier stages of the fire, thousands 
of the able-bodied men had rushed to the South Side to 
witness the fire there, not then dreaming that it would 
reach their own homes. Before the fire on the South 
Side, these fathers, brothers, and sons were gradually 
driven across the river, until the rapidity of the pro- 



RUINS OF SECOND PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH. 


gress of the flames convinced them that their own 
families were in danger. Being at last convinced, they 
rushed in frantic haste to save what little they could • 














































































CHICAGO. 


77 

but they arrived at their homes, most of them, in an 
exhausted condition. All that many could do was to 
aid in saving the lives of their houses; many attempted 
impossible things, and rushed into burning buildings 
never to come out alive; for the wind rushed on in 
horrible fury, and seemed to envelop three or four 
houses at once in one fell swoop. Many men had 
their hair-breadth ’scapes and peculiar perils to en¬ 
counter, either in rescuing their property, families, or 
neighbors. 

Mr. George J. Read got together the firm’s books 
and papers, and put them in a bag to remove to his 
own residence on the West Side, and offered men large 
sums to convey him and his valuables across the bridge. 
Finding time short and no one willing to aid him, he 
boldly proceeded to drag his load from the alley be¬ 
tween Lake and Water streets; and, the fire drawing 
near, he chose Water street, and was making what 
haste he could, when a large mass of felt roofing came 
whirling down all ablaze, and struck him fairly upon 
the chest. Quicker than thought he turned, so as to 
give the wind a chance to catch the burning mass, and 
send it flying away over the tops of the buildings 
across the street. By this sudden detaching of the 
incendiary felting from his person, he has no doubt he 
saved his life, as, in that hurricane, he would have been 
set on fire in an instant and perished there. - He pur¬ 
sued his way amidst showers of fire, and secured his 
precious treasure and reached his home in safety. 

A gentleman found himself encompassed with flames 
in trying to get away from the stoie with Ins papers, 
which he fortunately took from the worthless safe, and, 
making a rush to break through, he was compelled to 
retire. Placing a handkerchief over his head and face, 


78 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


and measuring his distance, he leaped forward and 
reached a place of safety. 

He tells how (he wind poured the sparks clown into 
the streets and narrow passages by which he and his 
father sought to make their way homeward from Lake, 
near La Salle street, and whirled his chromos out of 
his arms through the air, almost prostrating them. 
They found an old cart back of their building, and 
loaded it with what few articles they could snatch 
from the clutches of (he fires, and drew it some two 
miles in the night amidst the thronged avenues. 

Mrs. Hobson, the milliner, carefully placed in a 
wagon her choicest goods, as many as she could 
collect at such a time, and, putting herself in the 
thills, drew her load down towards the Lake, where 
she hoped for safety. Stopping a moment to rest, she 
turned to her load and it was gone; all had been 
stolen on the way, after her endeavor to save them. 
The powers of darkness seemed to be let loose to prey 
upon the people and turn human creatures into fiends. 

A gentleman who succeeded in getting a new car¬ 
pet out of his dwelling and removing it to a basement 
where he and his family took refuge, looked in vain 
for it the next morning. It was stolen. There was 
no mercy in the hearts of these plunderers. 

A good deacon, trying to carry away his goods in 
wagons, saw a woman take up a valuable package and 
start off with her plunder, when he called to her and 
she laid it down. A moment after she repeated her 
attempt, and be laid hands on her. Again she took 
advantage of his momentary absence to steal, and he, 
finding her obstinate, deliberately smote her with his 
fist, and she fell to the earth. This put an end to her 
depredations, and the church militant became the 
church triumphant. 


CHICAGO. 


79 


A portion of the North Division was saved by Mr. 
Davis, who early saw that all was gone in the business 
portion of the town; and he returned home to protect 
what little remained, his house, the shelter of his 
family. Procuring help, he dug three wells, and 
obtained water enough to* wet the roof of his house 
and to keep carpets and blankets wet, by which all 
incipient fires from sparks were put out at once. 

He took a pail of water and a shovel and stationed 
himself where he could prevent the sidewalk and 
fences from burning. Being far out, the fire came to 
him late in the day. As flames would creep along the 
walk, he used sand and quenched them. 

Often the heat was so intense that he was obliged 
to wet his handkerchiet from the pail and breathe 
through that. He felt several times as if he must 
abandon his post and allow his house to go down with 
the rest; but, renewing his courage, and moistening 
his face and hands, he continued to fight the fire till 
darkness set in on Monday night. 

While he still struggled with the devouring ele¬ 
ment, he felt a drop of rain fall on his cheek, the 
forerunner of the shower, and his grateful heart 
poured forth a shower of tears from his eyes. He 
could then retire and sleep with a sense of repose 
and a consciousness that God had appeared for his 
deliverance. 

A North-sider, worth a quarter of a million at the 
time of the fire, was glad to accept two pairs of 
blankets, as he said, "to keep the family warm.” He 
had seven dollars in his pocket Saturday night, and 
spent two of that amount to pay a man for setting an 
article of furniture, which was afterwards burned, into 
the street. His wife’s and daughter’s clothing on their 
wagon took fire and had to be abandoned. 


80 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


The latter became a mother that night in the 
basement to which they fled. His work-people clam¬ 
ored for their week’s wages, or wished his assistance, 
as they were penniless. His safe was entirely lost. 
There was no bank open, and he was in straits such 
as press the life out of a proud man. How they 
survived till he and his family could send into the 
country and make collections, and what they suffered, 
it were vain to tell. 

" Clear the way there, below! ” shouted a gentleman 
from a fourth story window of a large building in 
State street. The crowd opened right and left, and 
stood with bated breath awaiting the catastrophe. “ He 
dare not jump,” said one. "If he does he is a dead 
man,” remarked another.” " I am coming! ” shouted 
the individual aloft. And then, swift as an arrow, 
people saw a dark object shoot downward through the 
sparks, and smoke, and flashes of light, down to the 
earth. The dull thud of the concussion was immedi¬ 
ately followed by the exclamation: “ All right! ” and 
it was discovered that he had alighted in a large pile 
of bedding, escaping without a bruise, and scarcely a 
momentary inconvenience. 

Even then the man who would have predicted the 
burning of the North Side would have been consid¬ 
ered a madman. State was open as far as Madison. 
Potter Palmer’s buildings were tumbling in. Hissing, 
hurrying, on came the flames. They laughed, and 
crackled, and roared with demoniac humor. Darting 
at huge piles of masonry, they kissed them with fatal 
fervor, and, rushing on with hellish appetite, they 
embraced whole blocks of brick and marble, leaving 
them dust and ashes. 

The Sherman was gone, the Tremont was in ashes, 


CHICAGO. 


81 


the Briggs had shared the common ruin, the Bigelow, 
in the next block, was crackling; the question was: 
Shall we have an hotel left ? 

It was broad day. The wind had not lulled nor 
the fire ceased. On and on sped the flames in their 
hurried and horrible march of death and desolation 
Strong men who loved Chicago better than they 
loved many a friend, bowed their heads and wept at 
her destruction. Terror was written upon the faces 
of some; despair stared from the countenances of 
others. Many, for the moment, believed the last day 
had come. People prayed, and cursed, and hurried 
on, and at their backs Avas the ever-consuming, horrid 
hell of flame. 

It is proper to narrate how the flames were stayed 
in their progress southward. At the corner of Clark 
and Harrison streets, the Jones School was burned. 
A wooden primary on the same lot escaped destruc¬ 
tion. Why it escaped, would be curious to know. 
The flames, as if weary of the awful race they had 
run, did not cross the street. At the corner of Fourth 
avenue and Harrison street, the Jewish Synagogue 
burned fiercely, but the Otis block of brick buildings, 
on the north-east corner of the street, did not burn. 
At the corner of Third avenue and Harrison, men 
with chains pulled down a wooden residence which, 
though it was consumed, did not burn fiercely. At 
the corner of State and Harrison streets, O’Neils brick 
block was blown up by powder, and prevented the 
further spread of the fire in that direction. 

At the corner of Harrison and Wabash avenue, the 
Methodist Church stood as if defying the flames, and 
as though it uttered with the voice of authority, 
“ thus far shalt thou go and no further.” The flames 


82 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


did not cross Wabash avenue south of Congress street, 
one block north of Harrison; and the south side 
of Congress was saved, the Michigan Avenue Hotel 
standing upon the corner like the huge battlement 
of a fortress that had withstood a siege. By noon, 
the fire had ceased in its progress southward, and, 
except by uncertain rumor (and during all the fire 
many-tongued rumor spread its baleful tales more 
rapidly than ran the wild fire), no one south of Harri¬ 
son street knew the desolation which reigned in the 


North Division. Nor was it known that the city’s 
situation had excited the sympathy of its neighbors^ 

and that steam 
fire-engines had 
upon the wings 
of steam flown 
to the rescue. 

The citizens 
of the North 
Division, up to 
three o’clock on 
that terrible 
Monday morn¬ 
ing, put their 
trust in the river 
and Providence, 
.hoping that 
their side of the 
city, at least 

would escape. This was not to be. The rolling 
Hudson itself could hardly have stayed that tempest- 
driven tide of flame which was hurled irresistably 
to the main branch of the Chicago river. Already, 



THE OUTSIDE AID COMING. 


























































































BURNING OF TIIE CENTRAL GRAIN ELEVATO 



































































































































iiiiiiiii 










































































































































CHICAGO. 


87 


at three o’clock, the court house bell had tolled the 
funeral requiem of Chicago, the gas works had 
exploded, the hotels had succumbed. 

A lava shower of fiery brands, sparks, and hot 
ashes, like that which fell upon Pompeii, now rained 
down on the roofs of dwellings, factories, and store¬ 
houses. Before the bridge railings on the south side 
of the river had ignited, North Water street was blaz¬ 
ing almost along its entire line. 

The terror on the North Side now became a panic. 
Thousands of spectators who had crossed the river to 
see the fire in the West and South Divisions, came 
pouring back over the bridge and through the tunnel, 
hurrying to their homes and friends, flying from the 
furious enemy that roared and howled on their track. 
The successive explosions of gunpowder used to blow 
up buildings sounded like a heavy cannonade. 

Wells and State street bridges were caught by the 
flames and soon fell hissing into the river. La Salle 
Street tunnel sucked in the flames from the south and 
became a roaring blast furnace. 

One of the most dramatic and impressive scenes of 
the fire not yet recorded, was the flight through the 
new La Salle Street tunnel under the river during that 
dreadful Sunday night. It was about 2 o’clock when 
this strange hegira began, and in ten minutes it became 
a furious rout. The bridges on both sides were on fire 
and the flames were writhing over the decks of the 
brigs in the river, and winding their fierce arms of 
flame around the masts and through the rigging like 
a monstrous luminous devil-fish. The awful canopy 
of fire drew down and closed over Water street as the 
shrieking multitude rushed for the tunnel, the only 
avenue of escape. There was no light in any house, 


88 


FIGHTING FIliE. 


save the illumination which lighted up only to destroy. 
But into the darkened cave rushed, pell-mell, from all 
directions, the frenzied crowd—bankers, thieves, dray¬ 
men, wives,' children—in every stage of undress, as 
they had leaped from burning buildings, a howling, 
imploring, cursing, praying, waiting mob, making their 
desperate dive under the river. It was as dark in the 
tunnel as it is in the centre of the earth, perhaps 
darker. Hundreds of the fugitives were laden with 
furniture, household goods, utensils, loaves of bread, 
and pieces of meat, and their rush through the almost 
suffocating tunnel was fearful in the extreme. They 
knocked each other down and the strong trod on the 
helpless. Nothing \Yas heard at the mouth of the cav¬ 
ernous prison but a muffled howl of rage and anguish. 
Several came forth with broken limbs and terrible 
bruises, as they scattered and resumed their flight 
under the blazing skies to the north. 

When the fire had passed Kinzie street the panic 
became fierce and wild. Trucks, carriages, wagons, 
buggies, wheel-barrows, and even hearses were used 
to convey away the terror-stricken people and such 
of their household goods as they could bear away. 

If the scene had not been so tragical it would have 
been comic in the highest degree. A crowd of way¬ 
farers rushed on, each bearing whatever of his house¬ 
hold goods he had first laid his hand upon. Feather 
beds, looking-glasses, parlor furniture, kitchen utensils, 
canary birds in cages, cats, lap-dogs, trunks, carpet 
bags—all ftying as from the avenger of blood. Once 
a gust of hot air shot through the street, as if it had 
come out of a cannon. It caught up hats, bonnets, 
and shawls by the hundred, and whirled them away. 
The Nicholson pavement was soon in a blaze, which 


CHICACO. 


89 


scorched in an instant the feet of those who fled over 
it. From the roof of a tall, isolated brick building 
directly in the path of the fire, a shriek was heard. 
The flying crowd, turning its eyes upwards, saw a man 
running hither and thither, wringing his hands and 
uttering unearthly screams as the fire began to lick 
the coping of the building. Ten minutes more and 
his fate would have been sealed, had not a fireman 
pointed out to the unfortunate man an iron ladder 
fastened to the side of the building furthest from 
the fire, by means of which he managed to scramble 
down more dead than alive. And still the flames 
swept onward, licking up, like an unsated beast of 
prey, everything in its way until the North Side, 
taking a line from Canal street, was completely anni¬ 
hilated. Still the maddened throng poured on, the 
strong trampling on the weak. Hundreds of affrighted 
horses broke loose and tore through, prostrating and 
maiming in their flight, men, women, and children. 
On Erie street and Chicago avenue the loss of life was 
fearful. The bridges were choked with fugitives and 
baggage. Wagons became entangled, and the fright¬ 
ened people plunged into the river and were drowned, 
or fell suffocated by the smoke. 

Another terrible scene occurred on the corner of 
State and Jackson streets, and upon Wabash and 
Michigan avenues. Thousands, in crazed haste to es¬ 
cape from the scorching flames, broke into a frenzied 
stampede. Some on foot staggering along under the 
weight of rich packs, and tugging at the hands of 
halting relatives. Others were piled with stock from 
their stores, furniture, wives and children into vehicles 
of every conceivable class hired at fabulous prices- 
from their contemptible owners. To add to the in- 
6 


90 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


sanity of the scene there were two columns of fugi¬ 
tives struggling on in opposite directions. Haggard 
and fierce faces glared out from carriages as if they 
would defy the ruin jvhich stared them in the face. 
In this frightful struggle the movement of terrified 
and frantic fugitives became a dead lock. Old men 
were thrown down and trod under foot, children be¬ 
came separated from their parents, women were 
knocked down under the hoofs of plunging horses, 
and several cases of premature child-birth occurred, 
both mothers and infants dying on the spot. The 
cruel and hard-hearted cormorants who hired out their 
vehicles at exorbitant prices, exacted enormous sums 
for their use from, the sufferers who were able to pay. 
One of these gentry met the punishment he richly 
deserved. At the destruction of the St. James Hotel, 
a gentleman, whose wife was bed-ridden, had secured 
the services of a hackman and his team for the lady’s 
removal. The driver had demanded the outrageous 
sum of sixty dollars. The gentleman was only too 
glad to obtain a comfortable conveyance at any figure ; 
and the bargain was closed, and the carriage driven to 
the hotel. The lady was then brought down to the 
door, and a break was made in the crowd upon the 
walk to allow of her being carried to the hack. Just at 
this moment up ran the jDroprietor of a leading jewelry 
house, whose richly-stored building was but a few 
blocks away. Justice to him requires it to be observed 
that he did not understand the status of affairs. He 
only saw an unemployed carriage. Breathlessly ad¬ 
dressing the tender-hearted driver, he saidi “Here, 
my man! I’ve tried for two hours to get hold of an 
express wagon, and it’s no use. I can make your 
hack do as well, I guess. I’ll give you a five hundred 


CHICAGO. 


91 


dollar note to let me pack it full of my goods as many 
times as I can between now and the time the fire gets to 
the store.” “ Good enough,” answered the humanitarian 
of a Jehu, “five hundred is the word,” and slamming 
the door, he was on the point of leaping upon the box 
and driving away. A howl of anger went up from the 
throng upon the walk, but save for the presence of a 
certain trio of young men, it is more than probable 
that the poor invalid would never have removed, 
unless carried in the arms of her husband and friends. 
Two of them stepped up to the faithless knight of the 
whip, and ere his astounded senses could exactly grasp 
the situation, they had lifted him over the curbstone 
into the middle of the street, and were applying a 
judicious kicking to his perturbed physique. The 
other burst open the door of the hack, motioned to 
the husband of the sick lady, and in half the time it 
will take to read this had seen them comfortably 
stowed in the carriage, received their instructions as to 
their destination, mounted the box, seized the reins, 
and starting at a tearing pace around the corner, were 
soon out of sight. 

As long as liquor could be obtained many men 
drank freely. Some fell upon the scorching pave¬ 
ments, little heeding the swiftly approaching flame- 
Alcohol had deadened their consciousness of all things. 
Then the roar of the red flames grew louder and 
louder, and the earth-shaking crash of falling buildings 
sounded nearer and nearer, till the scorching pave¬ 
ment upon which they lay seemed to rock beneath 
the terrible weight of the falling walls, but they slept 
on under the red train of fire, till they became as the 
ashes which fell upon them. 


92 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


But there was a worse spectacle than this. Around 
the great distilleries, the gutters of the street, and 
every crack, and fissure in the pavements, ran with 
scorching spirit, which, being dammed up by busy 
hands, overflowed the road and sidewalk, and formed 
a great pool, in which the people dropped down dead 
drunk by dozens. A crowd of the laboring class of 
people, half crazy with their losses, and reeling with 
excitement and fatigue—husbands and wives, fathers 
and sons, mothers and daughters, women with children 
in their arms, and babies at their breasts, gathered all 
around this fearful pond, and slaked their thirst with 
the burning spirits, while some stooped with their lips 
to the brink and never raised their heads again; 
others sprang up from their fiery draught and danced, 
halt in a mad triumph, and half in the agony of suffo¬ 
cation, until they fell, and steeped their corpses in 
the liquor that had killed them. Nor was even this 
the worst or most appalling kind of death that hap¬ 
pened on this fatal night. From the burning cellars, 
where they drank out of hats, pails, buckets, tubs, 
and shoes, some men were drawn, alive, but all alight 
from head to foot, who, in their unendurable anguish 
and suffering, making for anything that had the look 
of water, rolled, hissing, in this hideous lake, and 
splashed up liquid fire, which lapped in all it met 
with as it ran along the surface, and neither spared 
the living nor the dead. 

As if the fiends ot alcohol, and flame, and smoke 
were not strong enough, to accomplish the w T ork of 
destruction unaided, a new agent of death now joined 
them. A cloud of deadly gases, evolved from burning 
chemicals and from the heaps of ignited coal, was 
swept by the wind into the eyes and lungs of the mul~ 



CHICAGO. 


93 


titude. Scores of men and women fell to the ground 
asphyxiated and lifeless, and even those who attempted 
to bear them away were visited by the same fell 
vapor, and obliged to fly for their lives into a purer 
atmosphere. 

In other places the gutters of the sidewalks and 
. roads were frequently filled with blazing petroleum 
or other inflammable fluids, which ran in streams of 
curling blue fire, or dancing red flames, down the 
pavements. In several places the tar between the 
seams of the newly-laid w r ooden pavements caught 
fire, and blazed from end to end; yet, with few excep¬ 
tions, the wooden pavements proved a success, and 
still remain in a marvelous state of preservation. 
The flagged pavements did not escape so well, and 
the huge stones cracked and splintered in the vast 
heat. Brick is the material that best endured the 
terrible ordeal; indeed, the greater part of the brick 
was still serviceable for building purposes. But mar¬ 
ble was burnt to quick lime; freestone and limestone 
crumbled and splintered; iron melted and trickled 
like lava among the glowing ruins, and strong iron 
pillars were twisted and warped into strangely fantas¬ 
tic shapes. 

The rails of the street railways were subjected to 
such terrible heat from the blazing buildings on either 
side of the street that they were raised in the middle 
from six to twelve inches, and even two feet above 
the ground, the center bolts being drawn, and those 
at the ends remaining undetached. 

The telegraph operators stuck to their posts with 
an unshrinking heroism well worthy of record, until 
the flames had snapped, curled up, and whitened the 
wires, consumed the poles, and even destroyed the 
lamp posts at the corners of the streets. 


94 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


While the mighty conflagration was progressing, 
a vast crowd collected on the fringes of the burnt 
district. The panic of this multitude was terrible. 
Some, with the fire on three sides of them, rushed to 
the waters of the lake, and wading up to the middle, 
dashed the liquid over themselves to keep their gar¬ 
ments from being burned by the shower of falling fire 
or the intense heat of blazing buildings. The cattle 
rushed blindly about, bellowing with terror, and 
trampling upon men, women, and children. Rats, 
cats, j)igs, and dogs, rushed among the crowd, uttering 
cries of terror. Flocks of pigeons rose in the red 
glare, and sought for safety in flight, until scorched by 
the fearful heat; bewildered and blinded by the ter¬ 
rible rain of fire, and the stifling smoke, they fell back 
into the blaze. Horses, maddened with terror, shrieked 
with that horrible shriek which is never forgotten by 
those who have once heard it, kicked and plunged, 
and often lay down in their harness under the rain of 
sparks, foaming at the mouth, and shivering in every 
limb. Perhaps the roar of the fire was more appall¬ 
ing than even this spectacle. 

The sufferings of the women and children no pen 
can depict. The terrible shock brought on prema¬ 
ture delivery in numerous instances. It is said that 
between four and five hundred children were born 
within twenty-four hours after the fire, and many an 
infant’s first cry was heard by the bleak lake shore, or 
upon the cheerless prairie, on that terrible night* 
Many of the little sufferers born under a sky of flame, 
and many a fair and delicate woman perished before 
the sun had risen upon the smoking ruins. A great 
number of children and young women were compelled 
to fly in their night clothes, and died from the con- 






DISCOVERING DEAD BODIES. 





















































































































CHICAGO. 


97 


sequent exposure. In the fire itself probably nearly 
two hundred souls perished, and the total loss of life 
from all causes connected with the fire must come to 
nearly a thousand. 

The daughter of an eminent clergyman gave birth 
to a child during the rush and panic of the wild flight 
of women and children along the lake shore, and in 
some inexplicable way was separated from her friends, 
and neither mother nor child have been found. 

A well-dressed and apparently intelligent lady, 
running away from the scorching flames, fell down in 
Adams’ street, near State. It was discovered by those 
near that she was in the pains of labor, and an effort 
made to convey her to a place of safety. She had 
been carried scarcely three squares when she expired, 
in great agony. 

A lady was carried out of the Sherman House in 
the arms of her husband, a new-born babe clasped to 
her breast, and both died in the arms of the husband 
and father before reaching a place of safety. He was 
last seen marching along the shore of the lake, with 
the dead woman and child in his arms, shouting, 
laughing, and blaspheming, in all the delirium of 
grief. He was, unquestionably, burned or drowned. 

The lake shore was a scene of many a blood-curdling 
tragedy. A fine-looking woman, of commanding pres, 
ence, and almost regal air, was observed wading in 
the shallow water, holding twin babes but a few hours 
old in her arms. At last she sank upon the shore 
from utter exhaustion, and both mother and children 
died unrecognized and unattended, and two days after 
were buried by the city. 

It was a sublime and yet most painful sight to see 
the tall church spires one by one succumb to the 


98 


FIGHTING FIRE 


pitiless enemy. The fire was no respecter of denomi¬ 
nations—Presbyterian, Roman Catholic, Congrega¬ 
tional, Methodist—all alike went down. 

The Rush street bridge burned next; the great 
reaping machine factory of McCormick was in a 
blaze, and the old Lake House, built in 1837, situated 
on Michigan, near the corner of Rush street, shot up 
into a column of flame. 



% 


RUINS OF UNITY CHURCH—DR. COLLYER. 

This was the signal for another stampede. The 
roughs and ruffians who had infested the lower streets 
near the river, broke into the saloons, and drank all 
the liquor they could find; and now hell seemed to 
• have broken loose. Language cannot portray the 
scenes that ensued. Half of the rabble were crazy 
with drink, and the other half wholly demoralized. 



























CHICAGO. 


99 


though warped by the hands of a fiery Vulcan, and 
the rocks split and shivered as though by lightning. 
As long as the bridges remained intact, they were 
covered with fugitives, and vehicles of every descrip¬ 
tion. But soon the only means of communication 
with the north, south, and west sides of the river was 
cut off, and fugitives could only obtain succor through 
vessels along the lake shore, or by a circuitous route 
to the remoter bridges, which were soon as crowded 
w r ith fugitives as the others had been. And so the 
fire rushed on with its appallingly rapid work of 
destruction, until the prairie about the city was 
crowded with homeless men, women, and children, 
without shelter, food, or drink. 

Those who lived west of Clark street, as soon as 
they saw that they must succumb to the advancing 
flames, after flying and moving north their goods from 
block to block, rushed across the bridges, which, with 
one exception—that of the Chicago avenue bridge— 
remained standing. There was a grand immigration 
to the west side of people and goods; of little children 
and big ; of crying women and excited men; of broken 
furniture and cracked crockery; of wheelbarrows, 
buggies, one-horse teams, two-horse teams, heavy 
wagons and light wagons—every thing that could be 
saved. 

But there was one bridge which proved unfaithful 
to its trust. Chicago Avenue bridge appears to have 
caught fire from sparks, before the main fire reached 
it. Thinking to be able to cross over this bridge, 
many people delayed their flight, hoping to save at 
least a part of their furniture before the flames 
reached their houses. But the delay was too long, 
and the advance of the flames too rapid, and when 




100 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


they finally fled to the bridge it was too late; it was 
in flames. Under the approaches to the bridge the 
exhausted people tried to hide themselves from the 
flames, the stronger and less exhausted flying to the 
next bridge north, that at Division street. 

But the refuge under the bridge soon became a 
burning furnace. Those gathered under it soon saw 
the mistake they had made. The despairing ones 
stolidly stayed where they were, and were suffocated 
or burned to death. 

Those with hope still left ran out, and attempted to 
fly north through the flames, which were crossing the 
avenue. A few escaped, but with many it was only 
a death postponed for the space of a few minutes— 
burning garments, tottering footsteps, and then a fall 
to rise no more. 

As the fierce flames ran along the avenue, a woman 
ran out into the street, fell down, and gave birth to a 
child, but the birth soon became a death, and the 
mother and babe were soon lifeless bodies. In the 
mad hurry after each one’s self, the mother and the 
child were deserted, and left to their fate. 

How many threw themselves into the river, with 
the vain hope of being able to cross the river or of 
being picked up, it is impossible to tell, but it is to be 
feared that in their mad and hopeless desperation 
many people in their flight from death by fire, fo*und 
a death by water. 

In a large blacksmith shop, just south of the bridge, 
a number of workmen—stated to be sixteen—rushed 
into their burning building to save their tools, but the 
fire proved too much even for the sons of Yulcan. 
While catching up their tools, the walls of the build¬ 
ing fell in, and buried them in its burning ruins. 


CHICAGO. 101 

The cry rose, “ To the Sands!” and thither everybody 
fled by a common instinct. 

The “ Sands ” have long been notorious in the 
annals of the city ; a more desolate place could hardly 
be imagined. It would have been comparatively safe 
from the fire had there not been at the foot of Erie 
street a large wooden bath house, dry as tinder, and 
an immense varnish factory and oil refinery, and a 
long range of sheds in which pitch and tar was 
stored. 

All the space unoccupied by houses and lumber 
was, on that eventful morning, crowded with trunks, 
bedsteads, mattrasses, pianos, chairs, tables, bundles of 
clothing, feather beds, people, horses, wagons, and 
almost every thing that goes to make up a large city; 
besides there were numerous barrels of whiskey, 
which had been rolled down from the hell shops 
further up by the dissolute wretches. 

Day was just breaking when the conflagration had 
reached the end of the Sands. The wretched' thou¬ 
sands crowded on that desolate place became envel¬ 
oped in smoke so thick that the Sands became as dark 
as at midnight. The people fled from suffocation 
down to the very water, while the flames burst through 
the dense smoke, and leaped after them. The fiery 
brands fell amid the furniture and bed clothing, soon 
setting the entire shore in a blaze. Hundreds of 
horses broke from their owners and ran into the lake; 
the wagons, which were run into the water for safety, 
took fire where they stood, and burned to the water’s 
edge. Scores of horses perished in the waves, which, 
'even against the wind, leaped upon the shore like 
mad things of life. 


102 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


It was not until Monday morning, sixteen hours 
after the conflagration, that the varnish factory took 
fire, raising a wall of fire between the people and the 
west, leaving little choice to the unfortunates between 
a death by fire or by drowning. 

How many lost their lives here will never be 
known. Late in the afternoon a fleet of tug boats 
came and removed the survivors to a place of safety. 
Without a barrier to oppose it, the fire now swept on 
in the direction of the cemetery, which bounded 
Lincoln Park on the south, and in the temporary 
absence of the fire department, the flames were swal¬ 
lowing up all the buildings in that quarter, battening 
upon the tombs and monuments in the burial ground, 
cracking and calcining marble monuments, licking up 

wooden crosses and 
signs, and even devour¬ 
ing the trees that sha¬ 
dowed, and the grass 
that grew, upon the 
graves of the dead. It 
could gain no hold, 
however, upon the 
green foliage and shrub¬ 
bery of Lincoln Park, 
whereupon it changed 
its course to the north¬ 
west. It licked up every thing until it reached the 
prairie, and then it burned up acres of prairie grass 
and trees. All the bridges to the west side soon dis¬ 
appeared, and the La Salle street tunnel, which com¬ 
municated with the south side, was so heated by the 
surrounding flames that at the entrances on both sides 
of the river the iron railings were twisted and bent as 



_ 

RUINS OF LAND OFFICE, ILL. CEN. R. R. 



















CHICAGO. 


103 


The surroundings of the water works even were 
not without their tragedies. One of the firemen, 
thinking, perhaps, that the heat of the approaching 
fire would not prove to be so intense and destructive 
as it actually was, crawled into a large water pipe 
lying on the ground, and was roasted to death. 
When fully awake to his mistake, probably all he saw 
at either end of his last refuge was a wall of fire. 



t)EATII IN A WATER MAIN.—A STRANGE AND INEFFECTUAL PLACE OF REFUGE. 


At this time, between five and half-past five, the 
line of the fire, as it progressed north, was about a 
mile in width. Along the entire line the fire ap¬ 
peared as if attempting to see which portion could 
surpass the other in its march of destruction. To the 
east, near the lake shore, were the large ale and lager 





















































104 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


beer breweries of Sands, Hucks, Brandt, Bowman, 
Schmidt, Busch, Doyle, etc.; to the w r est, near to 
North Branch, was a densely inhabited district, filled 
with wooden houses as dry as tinder. 

The lake front was filled with household goods, 
piled in the utmost confusion. Weary watchers stood 
guard about their little all, and hundreds of people, 
homeless, and without property of any kind, were 
lying about exhausted. The last was a grievous 
annoyance, but the roar of the fire was a positive 
terror, which drove minor considerations from the 
mind. From the lake front the destruction of the 
palatial block of residences known as Terrace Row 
was watched with intense interest. Its burning;, 
although occurring in the day time, when the spec¬ 
tacular effect of fire is greatly lost, was one of the 
remarkable scenes of the great tragedy. If it alone 
had burned, all the rhetoric at the command of the 
writers on the press would have been used in its 
description. 


i 


















CHAPTER V. 

THE GRAVE OP THE EIRE—INCIDENTS. 

Boundaries of the Conflagration.—The Area of Desolation.—Flight of 

the Sufferers.—Heart-rending Scenes.—Taking Refuge in the Parks 

and Prairie.—Night Among the Ruins.—Thrilling Incidents.—The 

© © © 

Cremation of Songsters.—Terrible Force and Swiftness of the Fire.— 

© 

Suicide of an Unfortunate.—Burned Alive.—Shut Up in a Furnace.— 
Escape of One of the Demi-Monde. 


WELYE hours after the first alarm on 
Sunday night, the greater part of Chicago 
was dust and ashes. The fire soon began 
to work south against the wind, actually 
traveling along State street and Wabash 
avenue, with almost as fatal swiftness as 
\J$ where the burning gale helped it along. 
It is curious, too, that the wind seemed to veer and 
blow from all points—south, east, and west—as the 
fire proceeded, but the prevailing point was steadily 
south. Powder was brought from the arsenal, and 

(105) 







106 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


buildings blown up all along the line of fire, but it 
was only by superhuman efforts that the fire in the 
south division was at last checked at Harrison street. 

In the south division, north of Harrison street, 
there remained only the blocks of buildings east of 
Wabash avenue, and south of Congress street, the 
Wabash avenue Methodist Church, the five-story 
building at the east end of Randolph street bridge, 
and the Illinois Central Elevation just north of the 
once magnificent depot of the company. 

The boundaries of the fire in the south and west 
divisions were the river on the north, the lake on the 
east, an irregular line made of a portion of Harrison 
street, the Chicago and Burlington Railroad, and 
Forquer street on the south, and on the west partly 
by the river and partly by Jefferson street. 

Let us return to the fiery spark-point in Lull and 
Holmes’ planing mill, Canal street, near Van Buren, 
in the west division, where the fire first started on 
Saturday night. 

The wind blew due north first, spreading the flames 
in a northerly direction, but soon veered to the north¬ 
east, and carried that way. After covering twenty 
acres of ground, and destroying property to the value 
of $1,000,000, mostly in frail wooden tenements, it 
smouldered away. This w r ould have been counted 
ordinarily as a severe and destructive conflagration, 
but was in reality only the puny though malicious 
harbinger of its giant successor, 

THE SECOND CONFLAGRATION, 

which broke out on Sunday evening, October 9th, at 
the corner of Jefferson and De Koven streets, and 


THE CHICAGO CONFLAGRATION, SHOWING THE BURNT DISTRICT. 







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CHICAGO. 


109 


advanced in two columns, one between Jefferson and 
Clinton streets, the other between Clinton and Canal 
streets, the latter leading the way to the south branch 
of the river. It soon leaped over the river, and effected 
a lodgment in the heart of the South Division, and 
worked again in two columns to the north and north¬ 
east. Early on the following morning it had crossed 
the main branch into the North Division, through 
which it swept* on to its goal. 

It was shortly before six o’clock, A.M-, that the 
work of destruction had commenced in the north 
division, full two hours before the burning: of the 
pumping works already described. 

The flames had danced across the Rush street 
bridge, and caught in their embrace the Galena ele¬ 
vator, which was soon enveloped in fire. 

Every bridge on the main channel having been 
soon destroyed, the flames held straight on in a solid 
phalanx till they had literally brushed away the North 
Division, the lighter structures with which this division 
abound giving the hideous legion of fire a glorious 
opportunity for keeping their lurid ranks unshaken. 

Sometimes a specially obdurate structure, like the 
Cathedral of the Holy Name, or the monster brewe¬ 
ries of Sands, Iluck, and others, would resist for a 
brief moment, but these would, once the flames had 
made even the slightest entry, soon succumb and 
disappear. 

The conflagration was more unforgiving than else¬ 
where, for here it spared only the smallest fragments, 
while in the west and south divisions it had been 
satisfied with eating away a monstrous cavity on one 
side of the river, and with cutting the head from the 
body of the second section of the city. In the north 

7 


HO FIGHTING FIRE. 

it seemed determined that not an edifice should be 
left to boast itself more irresistible than its fellows. 

One structure, however, in the heart of the north 
division, had been left intact. This was the residence 
of Mr. Mahlon D. Ogden, situated in the center of a 
block and surrounded by vacant lots. Wet carpets, 
quilts, and blankets covering the roof and sides kept 
off the flames until the wind subsided, and the house 
was saved. 

Thus, like some gigantic and malign mower, the 
fire had cut a broad swath northeast from the river 
up past Lincoln Park. 

The actual boundaries of this section of the confla¬ 
gration were as follows :— 

With the exception of the few buildings mentioned 
above, the fire extended over all the North Division 
from the main branch to Division street, and from the 
north branch to the lake, very nearly seven hundred 
acres of territory. The fire left the north branch at 
Di vision street, where it left a few houses standing 
along the side of the river. The back fire then 
extended to the river again, or to what is known as 
the north branch canal, which connects the ends of a 
semicircle in the river, which bends over to the west. 
Following the canal or new channel of the river for a 
short distance, the fire then tended a little to the east 
as far as Halsted street, up which it extended to 
Clybourne avenue, the back fire extending along the 
avenue northwest to Blackhawk street, and a little 
west until it reached Orchard street, a north and south 
street, excepting at its junction with the avenue, 
where it runs for about a block in a northeast direc¬ 
tion. After reaching Orchard street, the fire pro¬ 
ceeded north to Willard street, where it proceeded 


CHICAGO 


111 


east along Howe street to Hurlbut street, across a 
couple of undivided blocks. Along Hurlbut street 
the fire proceeded north to Center avenue, on which 
only three houses were burned down, the blocks 
around being nearly vacant. It then advanced up 
Hurlbut street to a point about one hundred feet south 
of F ullerton avenue. In the meanwhile the fire had 
taken all east of this, with , the exception of Lincoln 
Park. North of Fullerton avenue the fire burned up 
only two houses, these being located east of Clark 
street. Here the progress of the fire was stayed in 
the manner stated above. C. Raggio’s and two other 
houses on North Clark street, opposite the park, 
escaped destruction. 

Having reached Fullerton avenue, the extreme 
northern limit, the flame finding nothing further 
upon which to riot, died away into the second night 
of its carouse, and just as the long-prayed-for rain 
came pattering coolly down, the Chicago fire passed 
into history. 

Thus we have briefly sketched the beginning, pro¬ 
gress, and end of the great conflagration , the greatest 
conflagration, let us say, that the world has ever 
seen. 

With scarcely an interval for nearly forty hours, 
crimson banners had blazed across the sky, the ensigns 
of the terror and destruction which plied their dread¬ 
ful work beneath. 

To merely stand and gaze on it as a spectator was 
a horror never to be forgotten: a horror which on 
some minds made an impression as of some frightful 
dream, which the imagination bodies forth at will long 
after its appearance. But how much more horrible 
and harrowing to have been one ot those scared 


112 


FIGHTING FIRE 



fugitives flying from their blazing rooftrees, and 
looking back to see their houses and fortunes crumb¬ 
ling to ashes, and then turning again to fly for their 
lives out upon the bleak prairie. 


EUINS OF POST OFFICE AND CUSTOM HOUSE. 

• 

What pen can describe the wild flight of half a city 
full of people from their burning homes ! The scenes 
of anguish, the bodily suffering, the bewilderment, the 
agony, the despair, can never be depicted, because 
language fails to give the reality of the thing it would 
fain describe. 

By nightfall of Monday a great number of refugees 
had collected in the cemetery at the south end of 
Lincoln Park, and many endeavored to dispose 
themselves as comfortably as possible until the light 



































CHICAGO. 


113 


of another morning should enable them to make their 
final escape. But the fire demon hesitated not at the 
pollution of the quiet homes of the dead, and was 
soon curling the leaves and snapping the brush at the 
cemetery entrance. Another stampede w T as all that 
was left to the heartsick multitude of living ones who 
* had vainly thought to catch a few hours’ fitfal slumber 
upon the graves of the sleepers below, whom even 
this tyrant conflagration would not touch. Out from 
the cemetery swarmed the stricken ones, and into the 
park, from which they were again routed by the 
tireless pursuit of the wind and flame. 

The only rest was upon the chilly margin of the 
lake, or the bleak wilderness of the open prairie. 

The exodus beginning on Sunday in a little cluster 
of humble dwellings increased in volume and area 
and rapidity as a mountain stream swells into a 
resistless river, until it had swept its scores of thou¬ 
sands out upon the prairie, and left them to perish or 
float with the tide. 

Those who came to gaze on the flames as idle spec¬ 
tators alone became panic stricken; householders 
frantically tearing through the streets to save their 
homes, and then turning, when all was lost, and 
joining the wild roaring rabble, which rushed on 
intent only on self-preservation. Driven from refuge 
to refuge in the south division, as the flames hung like 
the avenger of blood on their track, it swept on till at 
length it had put miles between itself and the flames. 
“ But the scene in the south division,” says II. B. 
Hobart in his description of the flight, “ where the 
fire moved comparatively slowly, and over a large 
area, ate its way eastward and southward against the 
wind, giving gradual warning of its approach, was 


114 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


almost tame compared with the spectacle in the north 
division. There the inhabitants were flying with the 
wind, the wind increased to a tornado by the terrible 
heat, and whirling the firebrands before it like chaff. 
If the fire walked through the solid blocks of brick 
and stone in the business centre, it ran through the 
rows of frame structures that constituted the most of 
that part of the town. On the one hand was the lake, 
on the other the river, with its scattered bridges 
quickly choked and blockaded with fugitives, and so 
most of the scores of thousands had nothing to do 
but fly right before the destruction that pursued them. 
Daylight had dawned, but the sun was blotted out by 
the dense pall of smoke, and hope, too, was well nigh 
obscured. Behind rolled the awful billows of that sea 
of fire whose extent they could only imagine, and 
here and there before them a flying brand had lighted 
a new fire, that might ere long cut off their retreat. 
“To the lake ! ” was the instinctive cry of thousands, 
and soon the beach of that great, but now almost 
useless reservoir, was lined with the frantic multitudes, 
and such effects as they could save. But the relent¬ 
less demon pursued them even here, showering upon 
them his rain of fire, and many preserved themselves 
from actual burning alive only by covering their 
bodies with blankets, frequently removed to be soaked 
in the water. Farther up the shore many sought 
refuge in the old burying ground, hiding themselves 
in the vacant graves; and many wretched hearts, 
weighed down with the loss of every earthly posses¬ 
sion, and fearing that they had looked their last upon 
dear ones from whom the frenzy of the flight had 
parted them, earnestly wished for the peace of the 
new-made grave, and the protection of the grassy 


CHICAGO. * HQ 

mound which fire cannot penetrate, and beneath which 
the trampling hoofs of flame are never heard. 

“ Ere long Lincoln Park, the resort of gayety and 
fashion, was thronged with the fleeing multitude. 
Thousands and thousands more stopped not to trust 
themselves even here, but pushed on, miles to the 
northward, to the open prairie beyond the city, and 
there night overtook them, homeless, foodless, illy 
clad, exhausted—almost broken-hearted. That night 
of cold and rain, by the lake shore, among the tombs, 
in the dark woods, and upon the desolate waste, with 
neither fire, nor food, nor shelter, formed a fitting 
close of the horrors of that awful day. 

But some, alas! found in the flames their fiery 
winding-sheet. Sleeping in isolated buildings, or in 
lofty stories of great blocks, or foolishly risking their 
lives to save their gold, they were stifled by the 
smoke, or burned alive as they fled, or fell with falling 
floors into seething pits of flame. 

a The number of these unhappy victims can never 
be known, but it is certainly less than the appalling 
magnitude of the devastation would render probable. 
About one hundred and ten bodies have thus far been 
found. Some scarcely scorched, and some charred 
and blackened and roasted into horrible, unrecogni¬ 
zable fragments of humanity. As the ruins of great 
buildings are removed, other remains will probably 
be found, and many others were, doubtless, so com¬ 
pletely consumed as to leave no trace of their exist¬ 
ence. Not a few of the lost, it is to be feared, 
brought their fate upon themselves by yielding to 
the stupefying influences of drink. One man at least 
was sacrificed on the altar of Mammon, for he was 
last seen climbing into an upper window of his 


116 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


burning bouse to rescue bis secreted treasure of 
money, and in company witb bis lucre he perished. 
That the writer, and those whom he loves better than 
himself, escaped from the grasp of this fiery death, 
is a cause for gratitude that ought to make all his 
material losses seem unworthy of a moment’s regret.” 

Volumes might be filled with the incidents of 
the exodus above described, tragical situations, hair 
breadth escapes, thrilling tales, and dreadful 
sufferings. 

While the crowd in Lake street were wedged 
together in a dead lock, a stream of melted lead or 
solder poured down full in the faces of two firemen, 
withering their eyeballs, and while they were borne 
screaming away, a flaming brand fell upon a woman, 
whose dress was in a moment enveloped in flames; 
three overcoats were thrown round her in an instant, 
but not before she had breathed the flames. In half 
an hour she expired, in terrible agony. 

In a wooden house in Madison street, a bird-fancier 
had a store, in which he had just received a large 
number of foreign birds—canary birds, Java sparrows, 
parrots, and mocking birds. So rapid was the pro¬ 
gress of the fire, that he was unable to save but a 
small portion of his stock. It was piteous, as the 
flames enveloped the building, to hear the poor little 
songsters’ shrill cries; the canaries screaming like 
infants, and the parrots chattering like grown persons 
in great distress. 

The tremendous force of the fire was displayed by 
the absolute annihilation which it wrought upon the 
hardest substances, and such as are usually deemed 
proof against it. Cast iron melted like wax, and 
wrought iron was bent and twisted like willow twigs. 



CHICAGO. 


117 . 


Buildings so solid that they seemed to defy the 
elements, went down before the flames as if they had 
been built of pasteboard. A merchant upon the first 
alarm hastened to his store in Lake street. It was a 
massive pile, built of great blocks of freestone and 
joists of iron. After he had examined the contents 
of his safe he returned home to his residence in the 
suburbs and retired to rest, confiding in his absolute 
security, for the flames were still miles away. Hardly 
had he slept an hour when he was roused by a mes¬ 
senger informing him that the fire had crossed the 
river, and before daylight his massive pile was a heap 
of smouldering ruins. 

The jets of flame seemed to bore into the huge 
granite and marble blocks like an augur, the tough 
stone cracking and chipping off and at last exploding. 
Even the earthy mould which covered the dead 
seemed incapable of resisting its force. 

In the Catholic cemetery the marble over the graves 
cracked and baked, and fell in glowing embers on the 
hot turf. Flames shot up from the resting-places of 
the dead; and the living fugitives, screaming with 
horror, made for a moment the ghastliest spectacle 
that ever fell upon living eyes. The receiving-vault, 
solidly built and shrouded in foliage, fell under the 
terrific flame, and the dead burst from their coffins as 
the fire tore through the walls of the frightful char¬ 
nel-house. 

The lamentable tragedy at the Historical Society 
building is the darkest episode of this day. The peo¬ 
ple in the vicinity of this edifice, confidant of its 
strength, gathered their most valued possessions and 
crowded the cellars in assurance of perfect safety. 
Among them were citizens of note, the venerable Col. 


118 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Stone and wife, Mr. and Able and two daughters, Mr. 
and Mr. Carpenter, Dr. Lear and family, with several 
others not so well known. While the frightened 
group were moving a trunk, the librarian caught sight 
of a flame, and shouting to the rest, rushed from the 
fatal place. The others, at least twenty in number, 
were not seen to emerge, and there is no doubt that 
they perished, as the building was soon tottering in 
utter wreck. The original copy of the Lincoln Eman¬ 
cipation Proclamation perished among the most cher¬ 
ished memorials of this society. 

Such was the force of the wind and flame com¬ 
bined that while a Swede was carrying away a pile of 
bed-clothing a brand whirled through the air a mile or 
more and set it in a blaze. The hotter and more rari- 
fied the air became the fiercer blew the blast. It was 
as if King iEolus was puffing at a gigantic bellows in 
a cyclopean furnace. 

In the German cemetery, scorched on the one side 
and chilled on the other, a throng of half maddened 
sufferers straggled through the grove looking for their 
friends and finding no one; delicate women came as 
they had escaped from death in their fluttering night¬ 
clothes blown about by the surly autumn wind. A 
company of German singers, from a low concert saloon, 
had fled out into the night with nothing on but their 
tawdry evening dresses, and sat shivering and silent 
in a huddled group in the lee of a tomb stone with 
their bare arms- blue and pinched, and the tinsel flow¬ 
ers in their hair shining with frost. It was a strange 
sound to hear them cheating their misery with songs. 

Near by the fragments of a Methodist congregation 
were holding a prayer meeting, and the air vibrated 
with their deep-toned psalms. 


CHICAGO. 


119 

A party of young girls and children took refuge in 
a small stone edifice without windows, and used for¬ 
merly for the storage of gunpowder. Slamming to 
the iron door they fondly hoped that they had found 
a place of safety. A few moments later as a fire 
engine was passing at a rapid rate, one of the fire¬ 
men thought he heard smothered shrieks issuing from 
the building. He tried the door but it had swelled 
with the heat and he found it impossible to open it. 
The cries grew fainter, and before crowbars could be 
brought and the doors pried open, which was done 
only with the greatest difficulty, they had died away. 
When at last the door was opened, all but one speech¬ 
less kneeling boy had fallen in a swoon; from which, 
however, they were speedily revived by fresh air and 
restoratives. 

The rapidity with which the flames advanced was 
something frightful to behold. Sometimes they threw 
themselves forward as if they were wild beasts, spring¬ 
ing on their prey and devouring it in an instant. 
Sometimes they would envelope a building like a boa 
constrictor, and then suddenly like a dozen serpents 
all darting at once they would seize another building 
and make a meal of it before the inmates imagined that 
the danger was near them. Again the flames would leap 
great chasms which had been made by the explosions 
of gunpowder, and catch fast hold of the roof of the 
next building, or would move forward in a steady, 
majestic stride, never checked an instant by the tor¬ 
rents of water from a score of steamers, and seeming 
to laugh to scorn the puny, though frantic, efforts of 
the firemen. Not unfrequently the engineers, and 
stokers, and hosemen of the steamers would stand 
their ground till their faces were scorched and their 
whiskers singed and then retreat. 


120 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


If the fire shot upward for a moment i he wind 
would immediately lash it and goad it on its mad 
course again. 

Occasionally some building of stone and iron would 
serve as a piece de resistance to the monster who 
would pause for a few moments over it and then 
speed away, leaving only the blackened fragments of 
its repast. 

The flames, in their march through Dearborn street, 
seemed a battalion of fiery seraphs waving great 
scimiters of flame, like the angel who guarded the 
gates of paradise against the return of our first 
parents; and as Adam and Eve turned back to gaze 
on Eden, which they would never enter more, so did 
the flying crowd pause at intervals, and gaze wistfully 
at their blazing Eden, and then turn and fly before 
the scorching heat. One man in the prime of life 
was observed to linger, as the crowd rushed on, and 
rivet his eyes despairingly upon one spot, which the 
flames had already enveloped. In one of these pauses 
he lingered too long. A curved scimiter of flame 
suddenly projected itself, smiting him full in the face. 
He dropped instantly upon the pavement. Several 
individuals flew to rescue him, but before they were 
able to reach him a score of flame-blades darted out 
a hundred feet beyond the prostrate form, and at the 
same moment a huge cloud of stifling smoke was 
rolled over the space as far as the crowd, which was 
driven back for their lives. A few hours after the 
charred remains of the victim were found where he 
fell. 

“ On lower Clark street, just below the Court-house, 
were some splendid rows of business houses. The 
upper portions were fitted up in furnished rooms, and 


CHICACO. 121 

sad to say, were let to the less disreputable portions 
of the demi-monde. 

“ Being steeped in the heavy slumber of vice, the 
fire had reached the lower part of the building before 
they were apprised of their awful danger. When 
they were roused from their lethargy their terror 
was fearful. Appearing at the upper windows of the 
burning blocks, they found their communications cut 
off, and their screams were terrific. The staircases 
were still partly standing, and after great difficulty 
the girls were rescued from their perilous position. 

“ One young girl—an Italian—attracted the atten¬ 
tion of all by her picturesque beauty, which was 
heightened by the tragic situation in which she was 
placed. Her hair, flowing wildly, reached almost to 
her feet, while the foreign expression of her features, 
and the tragic pose of her attitude, made her look 
like a tragedy queen. 

“ Poor unfortunate ! She looked fitter for a better 
life than the one she was pursuing. Who can say 
what treatment had driven her from her own sunny 
clime to our colder climate! Her looks were noble 
and striking, her bearing patient and courageous, and 
a feeling of intense relief was experienced by the 
spectators when she was rescued from the jaws of 
death.” 

Many, hurried out of their homes, and cut off from 
egress by any street, fled to the lake shore, and as 
the furious element closed around them, they were 
pressed into the water, and kept themselves alive for 
hours by dipping their heads into the cool element. 
Children were immersed repeatedly, in order to keep 
them from being scorched, and many came from their 
wet refuges more dead than alive. 


122 


FIGHTING FIRE. 



On one portion of the lake shore a dense crowd 
were collected, somewhat removed from the flames, 
and were gazing at the burning city, when they saw 
a woman emerge from a blazing house, and run 
shrieking towards them. By the explosion of a 
petroleum barrel, her garments had been drenched 
with the fiery liquid, and by the time she had reached 
the foot of the street, she was one sheet of flame. 
The crowd, horror struck, parted right and left, and 
the poor wretch plunged into the lake. She was 
drawn to the shore, only to implore her preservers to 
put her out of her misery. In a few minutes death 
came to her relief. It was a merciful release. 











CHAPTER VI. 


RASCALITY, TRAGEDY, AND ROMANCE OP THE 

EIRE. 

S 

Cold-blooded Avarice.—Ruffianism Rampant.—Hack Drivers and Cor¬ 
morants.—A Brighter Picture.—Heroism of Woman.—Hurrah for the 
Firemen !—Examples of Presence of Mind under Danger.—A Hair- 
Breadth Escape.—Panic Among the Domestic Animals.—A Bitter 
Separation.—Torn from the Flames.—A Leap for Life.—Running the 
Gauntlet.—Death by Fire versus Death by Water. 

N all great disasters human nature drops 
the mask which civilization has imposed 
upon it, and shows its true features. The 
bad become worse; the good display their 
goodness in a shining manner; selfishness 
becomes more heartless; cruelty more 
ruthless; bravery and heroism more noble, and self- 
devotion more sacrificing. We will not dwell upon 
the incidents which illustrate the darker side of 
human nature : a few examples only will suffice. 

One person was trying to remove valuable papers 
from an office and asked two firemen to help him, 

123 




124 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


but they refused unless he paid them $50 ; the papers 
were destroyed. Drivers of express wagons have 
taken $ 100 , and even $500 for an hour’s use of 
their vehicles in getting distressed people away from 
danger. 

Persons conveying valuables were ruthlessly de¬ 
spoiled of them; pockets were picked, and one gentle¬ 
man reported that his coat was stripped from his back 
in the very thickest of the crowd, and taken away, as 
by some invisible hand, before he could discover the 
perpetrator of the outrage. Even women and children 
were robbed of shawls, cloaks, and trinkets, and outra¬ 
geously abused by the mob of thieves and roughs that 
now came, like so many vultures, for their prey. 

A book-keeper, engaged in conveying away the 
firm’s records, fell fainting in the alley behind the 
store, overcome by exertion, and suffocated by the 
smoke and dust. The shock restored him to con¬ 
sciousness, and upon attempting to rise, he found him¬ 
self unable to stand. Just then a man was passing, 
and he hailed him with a request for help. The 
wretch offered to assist him for a hundred dollars. The 
fallen man said, “I have but ten, and I will give you 
that.” For this amount he gave his arm to the poor 
sufferer, and saved his life. A girl carried her sewing- 
machine to four different points, and was forced from 
each by the advancing fiend. At last an express man 
seized her treasure, and in spite of all her efforts 
drove away with it. Said the impoverished girl, “ Do 
you wonder Chicago burned ? ” In front of a whole¬ 
sale house the sidewalk was bloody from the punish¬ 
ment inflicted by the police upon sneak thieves. 
Trunks were rifled after their owners had placed them 
out of reach of fire. They were broken open by 


CHICAGO. 


125 

dozens on the lake shore, and the empty trunks tossed 
into the water. Pieces of broad loth were torn into 
strips three yards long, and distributed among a party 
who said “ These will make us each a good suit.” 
Persons who saw and heard these things were power¬ 
less, and the confusion was so terrible that no one 
could look out for any one but himself, or interfere 
for the protection of others’ property. It was a time 
when the worst forces of society were jubilant, and 
all the villains had free course. The Court-house jail 
had one hundred and sixty prisoners, and these were 
let loose to prey upon the people in the time of their 
helplessness and extremity. Such an event was a 
public calamity, but humanity would not permit the 
poor wretches to perish there, and no means were 
at hand to convey them to any other place of 
confinement. 

Another, a sufferer, states his bitter experience, 
and adds several interesting incidents :— 

His residence was situated in the centre of the 
burnt district, and at an early hour was consumed. 
One of the first places to which he repaired was the 
Sherman House, in which he had friends. He found 
it on his arrival still untouched, but the guests were 
passing out in all directions. 

Among other incidents he witnessed is one not the 
least strange of the many which have been told. A 
guest of the house, on his way from the West, had 
with him his invalid wife and children. In the hurry 
of the moment they were overlooked, and as the fire 
was. rapidly encroaching on the building, he became 
frantic in his efforts to save his family. The convey¬ 
ances around the hotel were all engaged, but by 
paying $1,000 he managed to secure an express 
8 


12G 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


wagon, and thus escaped. On Wabash avenue the 
owner of one of its marble houses had his carriage 
and colored coachman drawn up at his door, prepa¬ 
ratory to conveying his family to a place of refuge. 
Three ruffians on the lookout for plunder approached 
the carriage, and, jumping on to the seat, threw a 
sack over the head and shoulders of the coachman, 
and hauled him to the ground. They rapidly drove 
away in the vehicle, leaving its owner to shift as well 
as he could without it. 

In contrast to this picture, there were high exam¬ 
ples of gallantry and heroism. 

Brave men endeavored to cheer downcast women 
with an appearance of lightheartedness that was far 
from real. Individual instances of gallantry on the 
part of women were not wanting, and the bravery of 
one widow in particular extorted the rapture of all 
who beheld her. She had to cheer the spirits of some 
half dozen drooping maidens, and guide them to a 
place of safety. 

A mother, escaping with her babe clasped to her 
bosom, suddenly plunged from the darkened staircase 
into the blaze of the approaching fire. Her darling, 
terrified and shocked by the quick flood of light, and 
partaking the mother’s alarm, made one quivering 
motion, and died in her arms. This was worse than 
loss of home. What a burden did that mother bear 
through the horrors of that conflagration. 

Then, too, there were examples of love and devo¬ 
tion stronger than all the baser passions. It is in 
great disasters that such examples shine out with a 
lustre that illumines the surrounding gloom. 

A business man, watching by the couch of his dying 
wife, knew that his books and papers were all burning, 


CHICAGO. 


127 

but he stirred not from her side, and ere the embers 
were cold amidst the ruins of his marble store, he saw 
the remains of his companion lowered into the grave. 
Every thing seemed to combine to crush him, but he 
bore up like a Christian hero. 

A woman living on Ontario street, between Market 
and Franklin, brought out her two children, aged live 
and seven, safely, and then went for a baby. The 
children followed her back, and none came out alive. 

The heroic qualities of the firemen were profusely 
illustrated, and is the evidence of the truth of the 
remark of a brilliant writer, the “ purest heroism of 
antiquity lingers still among the firemen of our great 
cities.” 

One of the firemen brought a two-year-old child to 
a lady, which was snatched out of the upper story of 
a lofty building in the heart of the fire. The little 
thing was scorched and singed, and when asked, 
“ Where is papa ? ” he answered, “ Gone to church.” 
“ Where is mamma? ” “ Gone to church” So unex¬ 
pected was the fire, that the parents had no time to 
find their darling after church. 

Many a nameless hero in the fireman’s uniform did 
deeds that day which in the times of chivalry would 
have won for him the sword and spurs of knighthood. 

We quote from a cotemporary’s account another 
thrilling story: A young man named George Arm¬ 
strong, a fireman, had been hard at work through 
many weary hours down town, when somehow word 
came to him that the fire was sweeping along Ran¬ 
dolph street at a rapid rate. His home was on that 
great thoroughfare. His pretty wife had held up their 
wee baby to kiss him for the first time that morning. 

He sprang away like a deer, spite of his weariness, 


|9g FIGHTING FIRE. 

for lie must know at once that his loved ones were 
safe. 

Reaching the spot, he saw his wife, Jennie, at the 
window with the babe in her arms. The fire had 
reached the lower part of the building and cut off all 
hope of her escape. He screamed frantically for a 
ladder, and, when it was brought, threw it against the 
window and sprang up the rungs. 

The flames caught it at the bottom, and a longer 
one was raised, reaching the roof. George swung 
himself lightly from one to the other, and soon touched 
the eaves. Quick as light he ran along the already 
hot slating, opened the sky light and called, “ Jennie, 
darling, come up quickly. You will be safe here.” 
She had fainted when she heard the ladder go crashing 
down, for she imagined her brave young husband had 
fallen a victim to the sea of fire below; and now, hear¬ 
ing his voice calling her far up in the dim space, she 
thought him in heaven, and that she and baby would 
soon join him there. But some blind instinct led her 
to clamber up as fast and far as possible, and soon the 
fresh air kissed her hot, blind eyes, and she found her¬ 
self in her husband’s arms. As he took the babe from 
her, she whispered, “We can die together, George. 
Thank God for that!” Just then a stream of water 
from a well-directed hose fell full upon them, and 
through the drenching torrent a brother fireman came 
and guided them down the slender, swaying ladder, 
down past windows where the glass was crackling, and 
the flames playing in and out like the forked tongues 
of ten thousand devils, in safety to the firm pavement. 
And though they had nothing left but each other, no 
happier people are living, to-day, than George Arm¬ 
strong and his sweet little wife, in their humble shanty 
on the lake shore. 


CHICAGO. 


129 


Robert T. Lincoln, son of the late president, entered 
his law-office about day-light on Monday morning, after 
the flames had attacked the building, opened the vault, 
and piled upon a table-cloth the most valuable papers, 
then slung the pack over his shoulder, and escaped 
amid a shower of falling firebrands. 

Along lower Clark and State streets were located 
many livery stables. The horses were taken out at 
the first alarm and brought to what was thought to be 
a place of safety. Hundreds of them were gathered 
together in one inclosure. When the fire approached 
them they became strangely agitated, and their terror 
finally became so great that they broke from their 
fastenings, causing a general stampede. The scene 
was a frightful one. In their madness they trampled 
each other to death, and breaking loose among the 
crowds of fugitives, added not a little to the general 
alarm. 

It was a curious spectacle to watch the actions of 
the domestic animals. Some of the dogs kept close to 
their masters, uttering low howls that sounded almost 
human. Others bounded away and were never heard 
of more. In one corner, sheltered from the fire, w ere 
collected a score of rats squeaking in terror and stand¬ 
ing in their midst with elevated back and singed fur 
was an enormous cat and two black and tan terriers, 
yelping and cowering from the heat. A drove of pigs 
let loose from one of the burning stock-yards scam¬ 
pered through the crowd, grunting furiously and over¬ 
throwing many in their strmpede. 

In the turmoil and terror engendered by the confla¬ 
gration it is not strange that almost ludicrous cases of 
forgetfulness and mental distraction should occur. The 
following incident is well authenticated : Mrs.-■, 



130 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the house-keeper of a prominent hotel, had made up 
her mind to leave the city a few days before the fire. 
She had not drawn her salary for some time, and it 
amounted to $1,000. On Saturday this amount was 
handed to her by the proprietor. The boarders at the 
same time got up a testimonial, amounting to $150, and 
presented her with the money that evening. She de¬ 
posited the greenbacks under the carpet in a corner 

of her room. When the fire was raging, Mrs.- 

rushed to her room and succeeded in saving a favorite 
canary bird. But she forgot all about the money. 

The old perverse absurdity which leads frantic hu- 
manify, on such occasions, to perpetrate deliberate 
stupidities, had a thousand illustrations. Looking- 
glasses were hurled out windows, and parlor tongs 
carefully carried down stairs. Lap-dogs and favorite 
cats were packed securely in baskets and laid where 
the fire would soonest reach them. Feather-beds were 
lugged down stairs while the flames were melting the 
contents of jewel cases. One mother deposited her 
babe upon the floor of her burning dwelling and hur¬ 
ried out with a roll of carpeting. 

One of the most distressing features of the scene 
was the separations which took place in families. Moth¬ 
ers could have been heard calling for their children, 
husbands for their wives, and lovers for their sweet¬ 
hearts—all separated in the terrible race for life or 
death. A family had just rushed from a burning build¬ 
ing when the wife rushed to the husband and inquired 
in an agonized tone “where is our baby ?” In the hurry 
it had been left behind. The father flew back half 
distracted, and snatched the precious bundle. A little 
remote from the raging flames they undid the carefully 
guarded parcel and found, horrid to relate, nothing 




CHICAGO. 131 

but a pillow. Their loved babe had been left to the 
flames. 

At the intersection of Randolph and Market streets 
stood a large building, rented in separate rooms, and 
suits of offices. On the fourth floor lived the janitor 
with his wife and four children, and an orphan niece, 
Marie. When the flames reached the building the 
family rushed out upon the roof, but all escape was 
cut off. The mother sank down, with the babe in 
her arms, smothered by a blinding cloud of smoke 
and flame, and expired. The father stood up strong 
and resolute, lifted the little boy of four years to his 
shoulder, placed a protecting arm about his two little 
daughters, and strove to find his way to a neighbor¬ 
ing roof, from which a stairway descended. His efforts 
were in vain. The little girls ran back and fell beside 
the mother. Then a great cry of anguish went up 
from the father’s heart, and even above the roar of 
gale and flame his voice was heard by the people be¬ 
low, and piteous, helpless hands, reached out in futile 
sympathy, as if to help him. Then through the smoke 
and flame, to the very edge of the building, the poor 
man rushed, and for a moment lifting eyes and hands 
toward heaven as if in silent prayer, he sprang out 
from the burning roof and came downward. The awe¬ 
struck people gazed upon a shapeless mass on the 
pavement, which, for a moment, appeared very still 
and lifeless, and then a bright little head showed it¬ 
self, and a child’s voice cried out, "You hurt my w’ist, 
papa. Lif’ your head up—dat a dood papa.” 

The father was dead, but the child only slightly 
bruised, and was now well cared for. 

A family who had spent several years abroad, and 
collected many valuable works of art and souvenirs of 


132 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


their journeys, were driven from one place to another, 
and finally took refuge in a stable. The proprietor 
begged them to take his carriage and drive it off to 
save it. In this they escaped several miles to a place 
of safety, having nothing left but what they wore upon 
their persons. 

On the battlements of one of the high blocks in 
Randolph street a man was seen standing and wildly 
Gesticulating;, with the terrible flames ra^ino* and roar- 
ing through all the apartments beneath, and escape 
entirely cut off. All who saw him knew that he was 
doomed to a terrible death, for rescue was out of the 
question. Still he gesticulated, pointed in various di¬ 
rections, and was evidently trying to make the people 
understand some plan of relief that he thought feasi¬ 
ble, but his voice was drowned in the tremendous roar 
of wind and flame, and no one moved to attempt what 
everybody knew would prove utterly resultless for 
good. At length the great walls became unsteady, 
swerved for a moment in mid air, and then came down 
with a crash and weight that shook the very ground, 
and the life of him who a moment before had stood 
there imploring help was crushed out in the glowing 
furnace o ’ destruction. 

A similar incident is reported of two men on the 
(op of Armour’s block, who found themselves com¬ 
pletely environed by the flames. They tested the full 
strength of their lungs in useless shouts, threw up 
their hands, pointed hither and thither, ran to and fro, 
and finally seemed intent on plunging headlong to the 
pavement. It was impossible to reach them, but at 
length they stood on the parapet at the back part of 
the building, whence the roof of an adjoining struc¬ 
ture, some thirty feet below, seemed to offer means of 


CHICAGO. 


133 


escape. The flames were eagerly pressing upon them, 
giving but little time for consideration, and so, hand in 
hand, they jumped. It was a fearful leap, and badly 
calculated. They came down with a terrible crash, 
were badly bruised, and lay senseless and bleeding 
until rescued by their friends. 

A gentleman, rushing past a drug store at the top 
of his speed, was suddenly overwhelmed by the explo¬ 
sion of some combustible stuff, and deluged with liquid 
flame. Death was instantaneous. 

In one of the larger buildings on Randolph street, 
a portion of the upper floors of which were used for 
lodging rooms, men were seen dodging about from 
window to window, the untold agony depicted on 
their features, after the basement and first floor had 
become like “a furnace seven times heated.” Two 
were rescued at great risk before the walls began to 
totter, but just as it began to seem possible to those 
outside that all might be saved, the huge walls swayed 
to and fro, and came down so heav ly that they smoth¬ 
ered the dames they had fed but a moment before, 
and buiied several lives in the smouldering debris. 

We take the following vividly sketched incident 
from the Chicago Tribune. While Madison street 
west of Dearborn, and the west side of Dearborn, 
were all ablaze, the spectators saw the lurid light ap¬ 
pear in the rear windows of Speed’s Block. Presently 
a man who had apparently taken time to dress him¬ 
self leisurely appeared on the extension built up to 
the second story of two of the stores. He coolly 
looked down the thirty feet between him and the 
ground, while the excited crowd first cried “jump!” 
and then some of them more considerately looked for 
a ladder. A long plank was presently found and an- 


134 


FIGHTING FIHE. 


swered the same as a ladder, and it was placed at once 
against the building, down which the man soon after 
slid. But while the preparations were going on there 
suddenly appeared another man at a fourth story win¬ 
dow of the building below, which had no projection, 
but was flush from the top to the ground—four s'ories 
and a basement. His escape by the s!airway was evi¬ 
dently cut off, and he looked despairingly down the 
fifty feet between him and the ground. 

The crowd grew almost frantic at the sight, for it 
was only a choice of deaths before him—by lire or by 
being crushed to death by the fall. Senseless cries of 
"jump!” "jump!” went up from the crowd—sense¬ 
less, but full of sympathy, for the sight was absolutely 
agonizing. 

Then for a minute or two he disappeared, perhaps 
even less, but it seemed so long a time that the sup¬ 
position was that he had fallen, suffocated with the 
.‘moke an 1 heat. But no, he appears again. First he 
throws out a bed; then some bedclothes, apparently; 
why, probably even he does not know. Again he 
looks down the dead, sheer wall of fifty feet below 
him. He hesitates—and well he may—as he turns 
again and looks behind him. Then he mounts to the 
window-sill. His wdiole form appears naked to the 
shirt, and his white limbs gleam against the dark wall 
in the bright light as he swings himself below the 
window. Somehow—how, none can tell—he drops 
and catches upon the top of the window below him 
of the third story. He looks and drops again, and 
seizes the frame with his hands, and his gleaming body 
once more straightens and hangs prone downward, and 
then drops instantly and accurately upon the window¬ 
sill of the third story. A shout, more of joy than ap- 




CHICAGO. 


135 


plause, goes up from the breathless crowd, and those 
who had turned away their heads, not bearing to look 
upon him as he seemed about to drop to sudden and 
certain death, glanced up at him once more with a ray 
of hope at this daring and skillful feat. Into this 
window he crept to look, probably for a stairway, but 
appeared again presently, for here was the only avenue 
of escape, desperate and hopeless as it was. 

Once more he dropped his body, hanging by his 
hands. The crowd screamed, and waved to him to 
swing himself over the projection from which the other 
man had just been rescued. He tried to do this, and 
vibrated like a pendulum from side to side, but could 
not reach far enough to throw himself upon the roof. 
Then he hung by one hand, and looked down; rais¬ 
ing the other hand, he took a fresh hold, and swung 
from side to side once more to reach the roof. In 
vain; again he hung motionless by one hand, and 
slowly turned his head over his shoulder and gazed 
into the abyss below him. Then gathering himself 
up he let go his hold, and for a second a gleam of 
white shot down full forty feet, to the foundation of 
the basement. Of course it killed him. He was taken 
to a drug store near by, and died in ten minutes. 

A party which had crossed Ogden Slip, and- taken 
refuge in the light-house, found themselves hemmed 
in on all sides by the fire except by the water side. 
The following is the account of how they ran the 
gauntlet: 

“ Between three and four in the afternoon the tug¬ 
boat Clifford came down the river and tied up near the 
light-house. Could she return—taking the party up 
the riv£r—through and beyond the fire to the West 
Side, or was it better and safer to spend the night at 


136 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the light-house ? If it, and the pier, the lumber and 
shanties around, should burn during the night, as 
seemed not unlikely, the position would not be tenable, 
and might be extremely perilous; besides, Mr. A. was 
very anxious to linow that Mrs. A. and little Alice 
were safe. The officer of the tug said the return pas¬ 
sage was practicable. Rush, Clark, State, and Wells 
street bridges had all burned, and their fragments had 
fallen into the river. The great warehouses, eleva¬ 
tors, store-houses, docks on the banks of the river, were 
still burning, but the fury of the fire had exhausted 
itself. The party resolved to go through this narrow 
canal or river to the south bank, outside the burned 
district. This was the most dangerous experience of 
the day. The tug might take fire itself, the wood¬ 
work of which had been blistered with heat as she came 
down ; the engine might get out of order and the boat 
become unmanageable after she got inside the line of 
fire, or she might get entangled in the floating timber 
and debris of the fallen bridge. However, the party 
determined to go. A full head of steam was gotten 
up, the hose was attached to the engine so that if the 
boat or clothes caught it could be put out. The chil¬ 
dren and ladies were placed in the pilot-house, and the 
windows shut, and the boat started. The men crouched 
clear to the deck behind the butt-works, and with a 
full head of steam the tug darted past the abutments 
of Rush street bridge, and as they passed State street 
bridge the pilot had to pick his way carefully among 
fallen and floating timber. The extent of the danger 
now became obvious, but it was too late to retreat. 
As the boat passed State street the pump supplying 
cold water ceased to work, and the exposed wood in 
some parts was blistering. 


CHICAGO. 


137 

cc Snatching a handkerchief/’ says Mr. Arnold, “ I 
dipped it in water, and covering the head and face of 
Arthur, whose hat the wind had blown away, I made 
him lie flat on the deck, as we plunged forward through 
the fiery furnace. On we sped past Clark and Wells 
streets. ‘ Is not the worst over ?’ he asked of the Cap¬ 
tain, as the boat dashed on and on. ‘We are through, 
sir/ answered the Captain. ‘We are safe,’ Thank God! 
came from hearts and lips as the boat emerged from 
the smoke into the clear, cool air outside the fire lines.” 

At the corner of Clark and Washington streets, in a 
window of a third floor room, a man stood serenely 
watching the general devastation, while the roof over 
his head was on fire. People shouted themselves hoarse 
to call his attention to the impending danger, but he 
merely smiled without moving. 

“ He’s crazy,” said one ; “ drunk,” said another; but 
he appeared both sane and sober, and was probably 
inclined to tempt fate a little, and save himself at the 
last moment. He waited too long. The heavy roof 
came crashing down through the floors, and he was 
inextricably buried in a heap of burning timber that 
landed in the basement, a perfect mass of glowing em¬ 
bers, within three minutes from the time the roof gave 
way. 



CHAPTER VII. 

RELIEF. 

Effect of the heat.—Among the ruins.—A sea of human agony.—A hund¬ 
red thousand houseless people.—Sorrowful scenes.—A night bivouac 
among the smouldering embers of the fire. The beauty of desolation.— 
Bringing order out of chaos.—Firemen from abroad.—Stout Phil. Sheri¬ 
dan in the saddle.—Telling the story over the fires.—Sublime exhibi¬ 
tion of charity and liberality.—Organized relief. States and nations 
send aid and comfort.—The dead at the Morgue.—Pluck and hot chest¬ 
nuts.—A sanctimonious sharper.—Fire as a mover and purifier of the 
heart. 


e rf? RAND and terrible as was the tumult of fire, 
L . with its satanic energy, its fearful colorings, 
its absolute destruction, its human agony 
still more terrible, still more heartrending 
to the observer, was the desolation which 
followed it—a desolation as sombre as si¬ 
lent, and as heart-rending as the swell and 
the roar of the conflagration itself. Block after block 
revealed no evidence of there ever having been in that 
spot any civilization save the excavation of cellars and 
a thin layer of ashes. Nothing seemed to have re¬ 
mained unconsumed. Under the enormous heat wood 

(138) 






















































































































































































































CHICAGO. 


141 

was reduced to a light scoria which the gale whisked 
away leaving the ground blackened beneath it. All the 
metals shrank into rivulets which the porous and 
heated earth drank up. Sandstone crumbled back to 
its original sand, granite cracked, exploded, and was 
disintegrated into its original quartz, felspar, and mica, 
marble was sifted into soft lime. Some of the build¬ 
ing stones were fused and made puddles of lava upon 
the pavement. 

Around this blackened and smoking waste there 
surged and moaned an ocean of human agony. 

Where every thing before had been terror and panic 
all now was chaos and despair. The flames had died 
away but the dread consequences of their ravages re¬ 
mained. 

Uncertainty and confusion reigned everywhere. The 
streets, alleys, and doorways of the city, which were 
still untouched by the fire, as well as the parks and 
prairies on the outskirts, swarm with an affrighted and 
sorrowful multitude. Wandering about in a distracted 
manner they knew not what to do nor where to go. 
Some sought refuge with their more fortunate friends 
in the suburbs, others betook themselves to sheds, 
barns, and churches. Others having saved only a few 
dollars left for other cities. 

Still there was a vast homeless, foodless, unsheltered, 
destitute multitude, men, women and children, at least 
one hundred thousand of them, who knew not whither 
to turn nor where to look for food or shelter. 

Mothers were there with their babes closely pressed 
to their bosoms, and refusing, with a half cry, half 
shriek, the relief of food that kind hands proffered. 
Little children lying sleeping sweetly amid the whole 
confusion, as though their mothers had not been lost 


142 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


to them, and other mothers who had lost their own 
were caring for them in their stead; men who sat with 
their heads bowed on their hands, and swaying to and 
fro, and looked up at you when you spoke to them as 
though they heard you but saw you not; of the girls 
of a tender age who hid behind one another in their 
shelter as you passed, lest you would notice that they 
had reached the prairies with scarce enough covering 
to hide their nakedness; thousands upon thousands, in 
the Park and out of it, all so sad, all so silent in their 
sadness, yet so many crying, strong men, too, crying 
in a stifling way for fear wife or child would see them 
so weak. 

As far as the eye could reach was a vast concourse 
of men, women, and children, all huddled together 
over the Park and in the lots, amid wagons, horses, 
and carts innumerable. Hundreds were still lying 
sound asleep; some with a sort of wooden shelter over 
them; some under tents ; and yet others, and by far 
the greater number, with no shelter at all but the 
canopy of dark smoke that came wafting along over¬ 
head in thick rolling masses, that one could almost 
imagine to hear moving in the air. 

Fully 30,000 people were afoot in the vicinity of 
Lincoln Park, and this mass densely wedged into bar¬ 
ricaded streets between trampling horses, kept up a 
ceaseless stream far into the night. With the night 
new volumes of flame shot out on the air, and new 
crowds were hurled among the flying masses. 

The streets and the lake and river shores beyond 
the limits of the smoking ruins were thronged with 
the masses of these weary, anxious wanderers. Some 
with vehicles laden with the few household goods they 
had been able to save from the fire, but many more on 
foot, walking about with absolute vacuity of purpose. 


CHICAGO. 


143 


Sitting on door-steps and railings, or stretched at 
full length on the side-walks, were groups of begrimed 
and haggard men and women and sleeping children, 
looking more like filthy tramps or gipsys than civil¬ 
ized people. 

Their condition was sufficient to drive even good 
men to desperation and guilt, and it is not strange 
that the evil-minded should take advantage of the 
situation to perpetrate vile deeds. The city was al¬ 
ready full of rumors of incendiarism, robbery, and of 
the summary execution of the guilty ones. 

When night came the darkness was terrible, for the 
gas had been cut off, and the midnight blackness was 
made only more horrible by the lurid glare of the still 
smoking ruins. The fears and anxieties of the wan¬ 
derers became almost unendurable. 1 

.Even those whose faces smiled, and who spoke 
words of cheer and encouragement to their friends 
and neighbors, carried in their breasts heavy, anxious 
hearts. 

The merchants, who had lost their stores; the capi¬ 
talists, whose buildings had been reduced to ashes; 
the bankers, whose treasure-filled vaults were covered 
with the debris of crumbled and fallen walls; • the 
lawyers and physicians, whose offices had been swept 
completely out of existence; the publishers, editors, 
and printers, whose types and presses were destroyed; 
the manufacturers, whose machinery and tools had 
been transformed into molten masses of rubbish; the 
preachers, whose stately churches were now ghastly 
ruins; the thousands of clerks and mechanics, whose 
occupation was utterly gone; the hotel proprietors 
and their guests, who were now in a common condition 
of homelessness; the managers and artists of the 

9 


144 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


theaters and opera houses, whose temples now lay flat 
with the earth; and the thousands of families, rich 
and poor, whose homes had been thus quickly devoured 
by the insatiate and unsparing fire-fiend ;—all—alas, 
how many there were of them!—were in a common 
agony of suspense and despair; and the wonder is 
that, under such a strain of nervous excitement, men¬ 
tal anxiety, and physical exhaustion, continuing for 
days and nights, the entire population did not become 
a community of lunatics. Millionaires had become 
beggars; merchant princes and landed lords had be¬ 
come bankrupts; none knew how it was with them, or 
how it would be; now they were thankful if they 
could find bread to eat, water to drink, or where to 
lay their fevered heads. Men were like ships which 
had lost their anchors,—adrift in mid ocean, without 
chart, compass, or destination. 

The police force was almost entirely disorganized 
and demoralized. There seemed to be no power to 
check the turbulent, unruly elements, or enforce law 
and justice. 

That night was a fearful one—no light, no water, 
no law, no police, no security anywhere. Thieves and 
cutthroats were prowling through the streets and 
alleys. Drunken men reeling and cursing; hunger 
and thirst preying on all, and last but not least, the 
fear that the wind would veer about and blow up the 
smouldering embers into another conflagration. 

The scene by moonlight had its strange beauties, 
which the artistic pen of Mr. Wilkie has reproduced. 

“ Walls lay as they fell; the debris were untouched; 
yawning walls, broken columns, shattered chimneys, 
and slender, smoke-stained arches extended every¬ 
where in a wilderness of undisturbed profusion. * * 


CHICAGO. 


145 

Another noticeable moonlight feature was the thou¬ 
sands of blackened trees that were met at almost 
every step. All of these had their branches pointing 
rigidly to the northeast, the direction in which went 
the gale that bore the torrents of fire over the city. 
Black, rigid, lifeless, bant, and pointing towards the 
quarter where went the storm, they seemed murdered 
victims, whose last effort before dissolution was to 
arrange themselves so as to fix a thousand motionless 
and accusing arms to point out the hiding place of 
their destroyer.” 

But the sufferers, huddled by thousands in parks 
and waste places, and shivering over the smouldering 
ashes of their houses, had no eye for picturesque 
effects then. Their situation was indeed horrible. 

The proclamation of the Mayor was the first step 
towards the restoration of law and order. A system 
of patrols was soon established. Vigilance commit¬ 
tees were organized, hundreds of special constables 
were sworn in to preserve order and guard the prop¬ 
erty of the city. All the churches and school houses 
were thrown open to the distressed. Delegations were 
sent out to relieve such as they could. Scouts were 
sent to all parts of the city to watch for incendiarism, 
and also to watch and report the progress of the fire, 
where it was then raging, and before midnight of 
Monday many thousands of special patrolmen had 
been sworn into the service, and were doing patrol 
duty. Major Phelps had been detailed to get together 
a corps to aid him in looking after the sufferers in the ’ 
South Division. But these means of protection and 
security, though effective, were not deemed sufficient. 

It was felt both by the Mayor and the citizens that in 
the midst of such an extraordinary emergency, extra¬ 
ordinary measures were required. 


I 


140 FIGHTING FIRE. 

The atmosphere was full of startling, blood-curdling 
rumors, and every hour brought forth a new excite¬ 
ment 3 incendiarism was said to be rampant ; sum¬ 
mary vengeance was reported to have been taken 
upon even supposed evil doers. Dark-browed men, 
with sinister faces, could have been seen shirking 
behind farm and out houses, as if to burn and plunder. 
A wild story connected these wretches with a secret 
organization sworn by the most dreadful 'oaths to 
make war on society. They were, it was alleged, the 
offscouring of Europe, refugees from the galleys and 
dungeons, where foul deeds are expiated, and the 
burning of Chicago was only one of a number of 
similar crimes perpetrated in other quarters of the 
globe. Some of these miscreants, so the story went, 
had been detected in the act of setting fire to build¬ 
ings far away from the track of the conflagration, and 
promptly strung up to the nearest lamp-post, after 
they had made with their last breath a full confession 
of their misdeeds. 

These and other rumors equally wild wrought up 
the minds of the afflicted to a fearful pitch of excite¬ 
ment and terror. 

Some had gone crazy with their sufferings and 
losses, and wandered through the streets shrieking 
wdldly, or moaning and gibbering like lost spirits in 
the realms of Hades. 

Cold blooded scoundrels, who had graduated in vice 
and crime in the slums of New York, hovered about 
like foul birds, and lost no chance of pillaging and 
robbing those who had already lost nearly their all. 
A few of those creatures were caught, and consigned 
to the custody of the police, but amid the general 
confusion most of them escaped punishment. 














. 

’ 












DIGGING OUT SAFES 




















































































































CHICAGO. 


149 

Fortunately tlie headquarters of Lieutenant-General 
Philip Sheridan were at Chicago. 

While the shivering thousands were gazing in silent 
horror upon the ruin of their still blazing houses the 
city was placed under martial law. Stout Phil 
Sheridan brought down troops on lightning trains, 
the command of the city was placed in his hands, and 
Allen Pinkerton issued orders to shoot all thieves, 
incendiaries, and malefactors without mercy. 

Thus by a timely order the city was protected from 
the horde of roughs, sharpers, burglars, and swindlers 
who swooped down like vultures to prey upon the 
carcase of Chicago. 

To protect what remained was the first duty to be 
discharged. The troops, properly distributed and 
picketed, the police and the special constables sufficed 
to accomplish this. The second duty came home 
with an appealing force to the heart of every man 
and woman in the country. 

When the news of the terrible fire flashed along: 
the glowing wires to St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Louis¬ 
ville, the horror of the announcement lay like a night¬ 
mare shadow upon every heart and brain ; when even 
the last means of communicating with the sister cities 
was cut off, the alarm almost grew into a panic. A 
whole city on fire in the Northwest! Five square 
miles of splendid buildings roaring to the skies in 
flames! Five hundred millions worth of property 
destroyed! Thousands homeless; thousands starving, 
breadless, dying; millionaires reduced to beggars! 
The richest city of the west, whose wondrous speedy 
growth and prosperity was the admiration of the 
whole land, even of its rivals, turned into a hell of 
fire! Such was the news which appeared on the 


150 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


bulletin boards of every daily newspaper office, sur¬ 
rounded by awe-struck, sympathizing crowds. 

Ere noon of that dreadful day, Mayor Mason had 
telegraphed to the mayors of the principal cities of 
the country the fact of the awful desolation that had 
fallen on the people of the doomed city, and appealed 
for food, clothing, and the necessaries of life. 

“ The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth 
like the gentle dew from heaven.” With what power 
those brief telegrams spoke to the heart of every true 
American the event proved. 

The response came straight upon the wings of the. 
lightning, for it was the telegrams from all parts of 
the Union—aye, from Christendom—that showed how 
the great heart of humanity throbbed with heaven- 
born sympathy for the woes of Chicago. Strong men, 
with streaming eyes, read those telegrams to crowds 
which wept responsively, or tore the air with cheers 
which spoke at once the gratitude and the undying 
pluck of the people. 

Next in order came the firemen from sister cities. 
Exhausted by their fearful exertions upon that night 
of wrath, the firemen of Chicago lay down by scores 
and prayed in hoarse whispers for help to come. 
Their prayers were answered. The railroad trains, 
which thundered in from the east, the west, and the 
south before break of day, bore hundreds of firemen 
from neighboring towns, who rent the air with their 
cheers as they dragged their splendid steamers up to 
the front, and battled heroically with the flames. All 
that day they kept pouring m from distant cities, 
steamed up, stationed their engines, and commenced 
the assault with that cool bravery and discriminating 
judgment so peculiar to tried and experienced fire- 


CHICAGO. 


151 


men. All honor, then, first—to the noble fire brigade 
of the West! 

A good story is told of Mr. Milligan’s trotter, a 
splendid animal, worthy the industrious and successful 
owner, who had but recently rebuilt his magnificent 
store, after a fire had consumed it to the ground. 

Peoria sent a steam fire-engine to the relief of 
Chicago, and in one of the narrow streets it was 
so nearly surrounded by the flames that the men had 
given up hope of saving it, and were about being 
forced to seek their own safety in flight. At this 
juncture Mr. Milligan, of the firm of Heath & Milligan, 
came along with his roadster. Perceiving their peril, 
in a moment he had hitched the fast trotter to one 
side of the pole ; the men caught the tongue, pole, 
and wheel, and with a cheery shout, out they whirled 
through the smoke and cinders at a four-minute gait. 
The Peorians saved their steamer, and vow that they 
will get up a subscription and purchase Milligan’s 
sorrel, if the city has to issue more bonds. 

While the flames were at their highest, and the 
vast, crooked pillars of smoke rose and fell above the 
doomed city, in other cities all over the land charity 
organized itself into separate bodies of relief, all 
moved by a common impulse, and acting on a com¬ 
mon plan. 

City councils, chambers of commerce, boards of 
trade, religious bodies, Masonic and Odd Fellows 
Lodges, Temperance and other societies, were holding 
meetings for the purpose of taking immediate action 
in regard to providing for the sufferings of the dis¬ 
tressed people of the burnt district. 

The overflowing sympathies and munificent chari¬ 
ties of the people all over the country sublimely 


152 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


portrayed the generous impulses of humanity, and 
the grand fact that an occasion only was needed to 
show how much of the angel still inhered in man. 

Action, action—prompt, efficient action—was the 
soul-stirring eloquence on those occasions. In accord¬ 
ance with the object of the gathering, in each case 
respectively, when some generous member would 
lead off with a resolution, donating a sum which, 
under other circumstances would have been deemed 
a most exorbitant demand upon their treasury, ere 
the member had fairly pronounced the sum, another 
would spring to his feet and move to amend, by 
doubling the amount; a third one would treble it, 
when a half dozen, all at once, would amend the 
resolution by naming a sum at least four times as 
large as the original motion, so generous had they 
become under the inspiration of this unparalleled 
calamity. Cities and towns all over the country, in 
their corporate capacity, made haste to vie with each 
other, both in the amount of their donations and the 
speed with which they should forward both money 
and supplies to the unfortunate, though brave and 
deserving city. 

Railroad companies in every part of the country, 
through their officers, at once announced to the public 
that their roads were ready to transport goods of all 
descriptions, donated for the benefit of the sufferers, 
together with the properly appointed committees for 
their distribution, to Chicago, free of cost. And they 
all promptly and faithfully fulfilled their promises. 
They were indeed mighty auxiliaries in the gigantic 
work of feeding, clothing, and otherwise rendering 
comfortable a hundred thousand people, who in one 
night were stripped of their all. 



CHICAGO. 


153 

It was a sublime sight to see in all the great North¬ 
ern cities the long trains of cars heavily laden with 
supplies of all kinds and drawn by powerful locomo¬ 
tives setting forth upon their errand of mercy and 
rolling away swifter than the fastest race-horses to 
carry comfort and succor to the distressed. 

In the course of one morning, at the Erie Railroad 
depot at Jersey City, ten thousand consignments were 
received for the sufferers at Chicago. 

The enthusiasm of charity in New York rose to a 
fever heat; not only all the public bodies, but a great 
number of private individuals of the humbler as well 
as of the wealthier class seemed to vie with each other 
in deeds of generous benevolence, made spontaneously 
without the least ostentation. Merchant princes drew 
their checks for tens of thousands ol dollars and qui¬ 
etly handed them in to the Committees of Relief. 
Nameless men—of all nationalities, stalwart laborers 
with horny hands, and dusty mechanics emptied their 
wallets of the last cent. 

One touching incident will show how the heaven- 
born sentiment pervaded all ranks of society. An 
editor of the New York Journal of Commerce received 
an anonymous note from the mother of a new-born 
infant, enclosing a five dollar bill, and stating that this 
was the contribution of her babe to the poor little 
children of Chicago. This note the editor thought 
worthy of being framed and of hanging in his room 
as a memento of the fire. It reads as follows: 

The Journal of Commerce : 

Please find enclosed five dollars for tlie Chicago sufferers 
from a newborn baby, the mother wishing to mark its entry in this world 
by this little act of charity. 

Oct. 17, ’71. 

Men who had toiled for a life-time with one idea— 



154 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the accumulation of money—men who had scraped 
and raked and clutched the golden dross and held it 
with the close grip of avarice, now relaxed their purse 
strings and poured their treasured thousands in the 
laps of the sufferers. 

Rich and penurious corporations now falsified the 
law-proverbs and proved that they had souls by pour¬ 
ing out their accumulated wealth upon the afflicted 
city. Rival towns and cities forgot their jealousies 
and ministered unto Chicago whose progress they had 
watched with such envious eyes. 

As early as daybreak on Tuesday morning the far¬ 
mers and merchants from the towns near, as well as 
from the unburnt portions of the city, emptied their 
cellars and store-houses for the relief of the sufferers. 
All day long car-loads and wagon-loads of provisions 
were being brought in, while the active Relief Com¬ 
mittee, organized as by magic, received and distributed 
with wise discrimination these truly wonderful gifts. 

Soon contributions came from greater distances ; for 
days and weeks the tide flowed in, bearing almost un¬ 
limited supplies of food, clothing, and money, and for 
two months every day brought its quota. The whole 
amount from the different states may be summed up 
in round numbers as follows: 

Liberal contributions from the various states. 

Massachusetts, five hundred and fifty thousand. 

New York, four hundred thousand. 

Pennsylvania, two hundred and fifty thousand. 

Maryland, two hundred thousand. 

New Jersey, one hundred and eighty thousand. 

California, one hundred and sixty thousand. 

Connecticut, seventy thousand. 

Rhode Island, fifty thousand. 


CHICAGO. 


155 


New Hampshire, forty thousand. 

Ohio, fifty thousand. 

Illinois, fifty thousand. 

Virginia, thirty thousand. 

Kansas, twenty-eight thousand. 

Indiana, twenty-five thousand. 

Minnesota, twenty-five thousand. 

Tennessee, twenty-four thousand. 

Maine, fifteen thousand. 

Louisiana, fifteen thousand. 

And every other state and territory in the Union 
gave proportionately, until the amount of money re¬ 
ceived by the Chicago Belief and Aid Society, up to 
December 1st, reached the grand sum of three millions. 

These princely donations represented but a portion 
of the vast charities throughout the country. There 
was scarcely a hamlet in the land that did not remem¬ 
ber Chicago in her hour of sore distress, and send its 
contribution out of its small store. The Governors 
of the different states issued proclamations urging the 
people to come forward and relieve the afflicted city. 
And noble was the response all over the Union. Gov¬ 
ernor Palmer called a special session of the Legisla¬ 
ture, to convene on the 13th of October. According 
to the constitution of the State, the Legislature could 
not appropriate more than $250,000, but that, in addi¬ 
tion to the millions outside, added much to relieve the 
terrible distresses of the people. They passed a bill 
to relieve Chicago of taxes for the present year, to the 
amount of $3,000,000. As this amount would have to 
be made up by other portions of the State, it is cred¬ 
itable to the State that there was no more grumbling 
from the press and people ; and that they generally so 
cheerfully acquiesced in such a law. 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


156 

England, forgetting the old time prejudices against 
American ways, institutions, and pretensions, fairly 
turned her “ horn of plenty ” upside down over the 
lap of ruined and suffering Chicago. 

The good Queen thought of Chicago, and gave for 
its relief. She read every word of the tidings from 
that city with intense interest. Her subjects also 
responded in a most creditable manner to the silent 
appeal of their distress. 

Meetings were promptly held in London and other 
cities of Great Britain. The British people responded 
liberally, nobly, grandly, for which the American 
people will ever hold them in kind and grateful 
remembrance. 

Germany, flushed with her freshly-earned triumphs 
in the land of the vanquished Gaul* for the moment 
lost sight of her occasion for rejoicing in her sympathy 
with the grievous calamity that had come upon this 
youngest of the great cities of the Republic across 
the sea. Austria, debt-burdened and tyrant-tied, was 
moved to make offerings for the help of the desolated 
city; and even France, paralyzed and impoverished 
after her stunning defeat at the hand of the Teuton, 
drew forth a ready hand from her almost empty pocket, 
and sent to Chicago what she could hardly spare. 
The close-fisted Yankees of New England, the slow- 
plodding capitalists of Canada, the lavish spendthrifts 
of the Pacific Coast, and the “ peculiar people ” of 
Utah—all contributed with liberal hands. And what 
w r as least expected of all, cities in the lately rebellious 
South, which owed Chicago no friendship, were 
among the first and most generous in their benevo¬ 
lence in a time when “ friends in need were friends 
indeed.” Surely it is true, as Shakespeare—human 



CHICAGO. 


157 

nature’s faithful interpreter—makes Ulysses say, 
that 

“ One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.” 

And we verily believe that the world has been made 
better by Chicago’s fiery ordeal. The hearts of men 
had long been growing hard and cold, and needed 
just such a shock to soften and warm them to gene¬ 
rous impulses. Whatever brings soberness to the 
wild and reckless spirit; whatever tames the rash and 
dashing steeds of worldly ambition; whatever draws 
out our thoughts and loves from within ourselves, 
and away from the follies of the world, and opens up 
and enlarges our sympathies and regard for our 
brother man—has the effect to make better men and 
women of us. 

Helpful and all-sustaining as the comfort, sympathy, 
and the relief afforded was to the sufferers, it could 
not bind up all the wounds, nor staunch all the 
bleeding hearts. Scenes of anguish there were which 
no earthly balm could assuage, and no earthly power 
remove. One of the saddest spectacles was the 
search for and the finding of the blackened remains 
of the numerous victims of the great fire. 

Some of these, burned to ashes and blown away, 
will never be found till the grave shall give up its 
dead. Some were mere bleached and bony relics of 
once strong men. Some were charred and roasted 
by the flames beyond the recognition of their dearest 
friends. 

A morgue, or dead house, was early established, 
where all corpses were gathered for recognition, 
previous to interment. 

Here were enacted scenes of pathetic interest. 
Men, discovering the objects of their affection, were 



158 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


overwhelmed with grief. Two girls, looking for their 
father, recognized him as he lay upon his face by the 
hair and shape of his head. They were motherless 
before the fire, and this robbed them of their chief 
earthly protector. It was a sad funeral, amid all the 
excitement and tumult of the day succeeding the 
conflagration. But, away in the green recesses of 

the cemetery there was sweet rest. Let us hope that 
the repose of Heaven is more sure and satisfying, 
after the excitement and agony of life. 

In the presence of death and woe will men forget 
the better part ? How insignificant seemed man as 
we stood by the dead in the morgue ! Mere pailsful 
of charred bones and flesh indicated the existence of 
those who but the day before were full of lusty life. 
Oh! helpless man, call upon God, the living God! 
Here lay the body of a beautiful young girl, of 
perhaps two-and-twenty. This poor victim had a 
wealth of rich brown hair, and brown eyes; she was 
four feet in height, and possessed a handsome figure. 
She must in life have been exceedingly lovely. Not 
being burnt at all, she suffocated in the smoke, as did 
many of the other victims whose remains were after¬ 
wards consumed by the flames. 

This was only one of the many painful sights to be 
seen among the ruins, and we gladly turn from it to 
more pleasing pictures. The heroism and pluck 
displayed by the vast body of the survivors was, 
indeed, sublime. Men who had lost their all, and for 
thirty-six hours had battled like heroes with the fire, 
w r hich had swallowed up their dearest hopes, that very 
evening, all jaded as they w^ere, set about re-establish¬ 
ing themselves the following morning in new loca¬ 
tions, and sometimes over the very ashes of their 


CHICAGO. 


159 

houses and stores. Very amusing and yet admirable 
was the pluck of Margaret Toole, with a face like a 
shag-bark walnut, swathed in an old cotton night cap, 
who sold hot chestnuts at her stand daily in Lake 
stieet, near one of the palace stores. On Tuesday 
morning after the fire, at an early hour, she succeeded 



“ HOT CHESTNUTS.”—PROMPT RESUMPTION OF BUSINESS. 

in re-establishing herself at her old stand, and woke 
the echoes of that now desolate region by crying out 
in a shrill, cracked voice, “ Hot chestnuts! Can I 
supply ye, sur ? Bad cess to the foire ! ” 

The sympathies of the people were sadly preyed 
upon by a set of sharpers who affected the sanctimo- 
























160 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


nious, and solicited subscriptions for the benefit of the 
sufferers; subscriptions which, it is needless to say, 
were used by the collectors. One of the scoundrels 



A SANCTIMONIOUS SHARPER. 


was detected in the act, compelled to disgorge, and 
his portrait, taken on the spot, now adorns the rogue’s 
gallery. 

On Monday evening a knot of men, from thirty-five 
to forty years of age, stood on Michigan avenue 
watching the fire as it fought its way southward in 
the teeth of the wind. They were looking grimy and 
dejected enough, until another, a broad-shouldered 
man, of middle height, a face that might have 
belonged to one of the Cheeryble brothers, shining 













































CHICAGO. 


161 


through the overspreading dust and soot, approached 
them, and clapping one of their number on the 
shoulder exclaimed cheerfully, “ Well, James, we are 
all gone together. Last night I was worth a hundred 
thousand, and so were-you. Now where are we?’’ 
“ Gone,” returned James. Then followed an inter¬ 
change, from which it appeared that the members of 
the group were young merchants worth from $50,000 
to $150,000. After this, said the first speaker, “Well, 
Jim, I have a home left, and my family are safe; I 
have a barrel of flour, some bushels of potatoes, and 
oilier provisions laid in for the winter, and now, Jim, 
I’m going to fill my house to-night with these poor 
fellows,” turning to the sidewalks crowded with fleeing 
poor, “chuck full, from cellar to garret!” The blaze 
of the conflagration revealed something worth seeing 


in that man’s breast. Possibly the road to his heart 
may have been choked with rubbish before. If so, 
the fire had burned it clear, till it shone like one of 
the streets of burnished gold which he will one day 
walk. 

Vast sums of money perished of which no record 
can be made. There were in the vault of the Sub- 
Treasury, at the time of the fire, $1,500,000 in green¬ 
backs, $300,000 in National Bank notes, $225,000 in 


gold, and $5,000 in silver; making a total of $2,030,- 
000 , of which $230,000 was in specie. 

In an old iron safe which was left outside the vault 
was deposited $35,000 consisting of mutilated bills 


and fractional currency. When the building caught 
fire, and blazed with fervent heat, the immense vault, 
with its fabulous treasures, fell to the basement, bury¬ 


ing the insignificant safe and its mutilated contents. 
The contents of the latter were saved, while $1,800,- 


10 



1G2 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


000 in currency was burned to ashes and hopelessly 
lost. 

The specie was scattered over the basement floor 
and fused with the heat. There were lumps of fused 
eagles, valued at from $500 to $1,000, blackened and 
burned, but nevertheless good as refined gold. The 
employes raked the ruins of the whole building and 
recovered altogether about five-sixths of the whole 
amount. 

It was a fortunate circumstance that only a week 
before $500,000 in gold, and $25,000 in silver, had 
been shipped from the city. 

The collection of the Historical Society, which was 
among the largest in the country, cannot be replaced. 
It was the work of years to get it together, but a few 
hours served to destroy it. The Young Mens’ Asso¬ 
ciation Library, and the Farwell Hall Library, and sev¬ 
eral other lesser ones have passed away. 

Not a single indictment was left on record by the 
fire against any rogue in Chicago ; not a paper to show 
that there is a suit pending in any of the six courts 
of the country; not a judgment, not a petition in bank¬ 
ruptcy in the federal courts. And worse yet, so far as 
is known, all the records of deeds and mortgages are 
destroyed. 

Cyrus McCormick, the manufacturer of the “ Reaper 
and Mower Machines,” was perhaps the heaviest indi¬ 
vidual sufferer by the fire, losing, independently of 
insurance, no less than three millions. William B. 
Ogden, who also lost considerable property in the great 
Wisconsin fires, suffered to the amount of two millions. 
Potter Palmer was said to have lost the incredible 
amount of ten millions, and really loses at least a fifth 
part of that amount. John S V. Farwell and John 


CHICAGO. 


163 


Young Scammon lost respectively $1,500,000 and 
$1,000,000. Several other eminent millionaires lost 
similar amounts. 

Bank-safes were terribly heated; to such an extent, 
in fact, that in several instances gold was melted into 
a solid mass, and notes reduced to ashes. Several 
packages of postage stamps, worth about $100,000, 
presented a curious appearance upon being taken from 
one of the safes. The gum-adhesive had become 
heated and the sheets were soldered together into 
masses as hard as wooden or composition blocks. 

One fact was clearly brought out by the fire; that 
is, the utter worthlessness of safes not protected by 
vaults. It was sad to see these vaunted “ safes ” turn 
out so generally unsafe. “ If my safe is all right,” 
said one man, “ I am worth ten thousand dollars.” He 
opened it, and instantly, so intense was the heat, all 
the contents flamed up under the draft of fresh air, 
and consumed before his eyes, and under his grasp. 
Probably there was no difference in the powerlessness 
of safes to resist that burning. Some things from 
some safes in favorable positions were preserved. The 
little tin box within, in a few instances, appeared to 
attract heat, and left the contents in a worse condition 
than those that were outside of it. Men will hereafter 
trust to nothing less substantial than brick vaults, 
built under ground, or upon foundations that rest on 
the solid earth. Iron columns twisted and fell, and 
ruined the vaults they supported, and their contents. 



THE CLAIMANT. 

This is the claimant so pure and so mild, 

With his heart and his manners as bland as a child. 


CHAPTER VIII. 
LOSSES. ' 


List of Insurance Offices that had Risks in Burned Chicago.—Specified 
Losses.—Catalogue of Burned Buildings.—Business Houses, Churches, 
Hotels, Elevators, &c.—Grand Total.—Reconstruction. 

E have thus followed the track of the 
conflagration, surveyed with pitying eye 
the vast concourse of sufferers, related 
how and on what a magnificent scale 
relief and comfort was administered to 
the afflicted, and now we are left among 
the ruins to contemplate the area of desolation, and 
make out a dreary catalogue of losses. 

(164) 

































CHICAGO 


165 



The city and its interests are intimately bound up 
with those of the whole world. The losses by the fire 
were not local, but well-nigh universal. The repre¬ 
sentatives of all nations were here, and of all states 
and communities in North America; the business 
world were here by their money or agencies, and the 
fall of Chicago sent a tremor throughout the whole 
fabr’c of society. 

The first question that arises is how far Chicago 
had been protected by insurance. 


THE STATEMENT THE COMPANY MADE. 

This is the statement the Company made : 

(Directors and Officers thickly arrayed, 

To soften the jar as they strike the np grade, 

Where the millions of losses will have to he paid.) 

“ Our agency records, we deeply "egret, 

Are burned at Chicago, are out in the wet, 

Or else there is, h—m, there is some slight impediment, 
Some something-or-other, some sand or some sediment, 
Has got in the keyhole, disordered the lock, 

Or razeed the dividends, watered the stock, 

Or some trifling thing not yet quite in sight; 

But the Company, sir, is Aim kigiit, is all right. 























































166 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


The following tables furnish an exhibit of all the 
companies doing business in Chicago. There is a 
large number which have no connection with this 
city, and do not require .to be named here. The 
latest data enable us to furnish a very full and 
accurate statement of the capital, gross assets, and 
losses of such as have offices and representatives in 
this city:— 

NEW YORK COMPANIES. 


Name. 

JEtna, City - 
Adriatic, City - 
Albany City, Albany 
American, City - 
American Exchange, City 
Astor, City - 
Atlantic, City - 
Beekman, City - 
Buffalo City, Buffalo 
Buffalo Fire and Marine, Buffalo 
Buffalo German, Buffalo - 
Capital City, Albany, 

Citizen’s, City - 
Columbia, City - 

Commerce, Albany 
Commerce Fire, City 
Commercial, City - 

Continental, City - 

Corn Exchange, City 
Excelsior, City - 

Exchange, City - 

Firemen’s, City - - - 

Firemeffs Fund, City 
Firemen’s Trust, City 
Fulton, City - 
Germania, City- - 

Glens Falls, Glens Falls, - 

Guardian, City - 
Hanover, City - 
Hoffman, City - 



Gross Assets, 


Capital. 

Jan. 1, 1871. 

Losses. 

$300,000 

$442,709 

$660,000* 

200,000 

246,120 

8,500 

230,000 

397,646 

800,000* 

200,000 

741,405 

25,000 

200,000 

277,350 

58,000 

250,000 

405,571 

400,000* 

300,000 

556,179 

600,000* 

200,000 

261,851 

350,000* 

'200,000 

370,934 

600,000* 

304,222 

473,577 

625,000* 

200,000 

270,081 

5,000 

200,000 

293,766 

270,000* 

300,000 

684,798 

35,000 

300,000 

451,332 

3,000 

400,000 

692,877 

400,000 

200,000 

249,372 

25,000 

.200,000 

306,002 

5,000 

500,000 

2,538,038 

1,000,000 

306,000 

398,986 

55,000 

200,000 

335,724 

600,000* 

150,000 

183,959 

2,500 

204,000 

359,961 

15,000 

150,000 

173,477 

25,000 

150,000 

226,269 

5,000 

200,000 

363,002 

900,000* 

500,000 

1,077,849 

226,500 

200,000 

571,123 

13,000 

200,000 

279,688 

40,000 

400,000 

700,335 

225,000 

200,000 

235,242 

30,000 


* Suspended. 


• 


CHICAGO. 


167 




Gross Assets, 


Name. 


Capital. 

Jan. 1, 1871. 

Losses. 

Horae, City 

- 

- 2,500,000 

4,578,008 

2,000,000 

Howard, City - 

- 

500,000 

783,851 

275,000 

Humboldt, City 

. - 

- 200,000 

251,186 

24,000 

Importers and Traders’, 

City 

200,000 

302,589 

22,500 

International, City - 

- 

500,000 

1,329,476 

500,000 

Irving, City 

- 

- 200,000 

321,745 

550,000* 

Jefferson, City - 

- 

- 200,000 

411,155 

42,500 

Kings County, City - 

- 

150,000 

262,573 

31,000 

Lafayette, L. I., City 

- 

150,000 

214,751 

7,500 

Lamar, City 

- 

300,0J0 

551,402 

450,000* 

Lenox, City 

- 

150,000 

240,801 

32,000 

Lorillard, City - 

- 

- 1,000,000 

1,715,909 

1,500,000* 

Manhattan, City 

- 

500,000 ' 

1,407,788 

1,250,000* 

Market, City 

- 

200,000 

704,684 

1,000,000* 

Mechanic’s, L. L, City 

- 

150,000 

213,047 

22,500 

Mechanics and Traders’, 

City 

200,000 

460,002 

41,500 

Mercantile, City 

- 

200,000 

273,399 

100,000 

Merchants’, City 

- 

200,000 

442,690 

10,000 

National, City - 

- 

200,000 

232,671 

37,500 

New Amsterdam, City, 

- 

300,000 

432,638 

200,000 

New York Fire, City 

- 

- 200,000 

392,278 

15,000 

Niagara, City - 

- 

- 1,000,000 

1,3 >4,567 

225,000 

North American, City 

- 

5 >0,000 

770,305 

720,000* 

Pacific, City 

- 

200,000 

443,557 

12,500 

Phoenix, L. I., City - 

- 

- 1,000,000 

1,890,010 

350,000 

Relief, City 

- 

- 200,000 

310,903 

40,000 

Republic, City - 

- 

- 300,000 

633,478 

225,000 

Resolute, City - 

- 

200,000 

252,452 

75,000 

Security, City - 

- 

- 1,000,000 

1,880,333 

1,500,000* 

Sterling, City - 

- 

200,000 

247,027 

7,500 

Tradesmen’s, City 

- 

150,000 

423,181 

25,000 

Washington, City 

- 

- 400,000 

774,411 

900,000* 

Western of Buffalo, Buffalo 

- 300,000 

582,547 

750,000* 

Williamsburg City, City 


250,000 

539,692 

60,000 

Yonkers and New York, City 

500,000 

868,933 

700,000* 

MISSOURI COMPANIES. 



American Central, St. Louis 

- $231,370 

$254,875 

$275,000 

Anchor, St. Louis 

- 

- 105,225 

121,974 

27,000 

Boatmen’s, St Louis 

- 

- 100,530 

51,786 

20,000 

Citizens’, St. Louis 

- 

175,000 

271,373 

25,000 

Commercial, St. Louis 

- 

40,660 

43,896 

20,000 


1G8 


FIGHTING FIKE. 


Name. 

Excelsior, St. Louis - 


mm 

Capital. 

73,087 

Gross Assets , 
Jan. 1, 1871. 

19,815 

Losses. 

15,000 

Globe Mutual, St. Louis 

- 

- 

125,000 

150,793 

65,000* 

Jefferson, St. Louis 

- 

- 

101,272 

121,842 

10,000 

Marine, St Louis 

- 

- 

150,000 

210,925 

10,000 

Merchants’, St. Joseph 

- 

aa 

60,636 

79,682 

10,000 

National, Hannibal 

- 

- 

111,201 

147,738 

10,000 

North Missouri, Macon 

- 

- 

134,050 

154,166 

21,500 

Pacific, St. Louis 

- 

mm 

25,000 

36,835 

10,000 

Phoenix, St. Louis 

- 

- 

108,950 

126,654 

10,000 

St. Joseph, St. Joseph 

- 

- 

64,000 

105,729 

10,000 

St. Louis, St. Louis - 

- 

- 

240,000 

307,342 

15,000 

State, Hannibal 

- 

- 

109,820 

162,099 

21,500 

MASSACHUSETTS COMPANIES. 


Bay State, Worcester 

_ 

- 

$104,800 

$196,275 

$5,000 

Boylston, Boston 

- 

- 

300,000 

933,256 

13,000 

City, Boston - • - 

- 

- 

200,000 

399,427 

15,000 

Eliot, Boston - r 

mm 

- 

300,000 

672,212 

12,500 

Firemen’s, Boston 

- 

m 

300,000 

1,038,330 

33,000 

First National, Worcester 

- 

100,000 

157,356 

2,500 

Franklin, Boston 

- 

- 

300,000 

541,908 

50,000 

Hide and Leather, Boston 

- 

3C0,009 

419,211 

720,000 

Howard, Boston 

- 

- 

200,000 

358,642 

27,500 

Independent, Boston 

- 

- 

300,000 . 

646,648 

1,100,000 

Lawrence, Boston 

- 

- 

250,000 

262,502 

10,000 

Manufacturers,’ Boston 

- 

- 

400,000 

1,480,464 

120,000 

Merchant’s, Boston - 

- 

- 

500,000 

958,559 

10,000 

National, Boston 

- 

- 

300,000 

821,840 

400,000 

Neptune, Boston 

- 

- 

300,000 

852,195 

60,000 

New England Mutual M., 

Boston 

200,000 

1,080,973 

1,000,000* 

North American, Boston 

- 

- 

200,000 

601,747 

10,000 

People’s, Worcester - 

- 

- 

400,000 

887,756 

300,000 

Shoe & Leather Dealer’s, 

Boston 

200,000 

549,806 

25,000 

Springfield, Springfield 

- 

- 

500,000 

930,101 

450,000 

Suffolk, Boston 

- 

- 

150,000 

283,288 

23,000 

Tremont, Boston 

- 

- 

200,000 

294,543 

70,000 

Washington, Boston - 

- 

- 

300,000 

985,975 

25,000 

RHODE 

ISLAND COMPANIES. 


American, Providence 

- 

- 

$200,p00 

$374,969 

$600,000* 

Atlantic, Providence 

- 

- 

200,000 

326,614 

325,000* 

City, Providence 

- 

m 

50,000 

72,150 

7,500 


Name. 

Hope, Providence 


CHICAGO. 

Capital. 

150,000 

Gross Assets , 
Jan. 1, 1871. 

211,673 

169 

Losses. 

325,000* 

Merchants’, Providence 

- 

- 

200,000 

372,199 

■15,000 

Narragansett, Providence 

- 

- 

500,000 

792,947 

25,000 

Providence Washington, Provide’ce 200,000 

415,149 

550,000* 

Roger Williams, Providence 

- 

200,000 

278,966 

225,000* 

Alemania, Cleveland 

OHIO 

COMPANIES. 

$250,000 

$285,555 

$175,000 

American, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

100,000 

125,513 

12,500 

Andes, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

1,000,000 

1,203,425 

850,000 

Burnett, Cincinnati - 

- 

- 

60,000 

75,369 

2,500 

Butler, Hamilton 

- 

- 

14,000 

22,322 

— 

Capital City, Columbus 

- 

- 

60,000 

78,000 

— 

Central, Columbus 

- 

- 

40,000 

55,541 

— 

Central, Dayton 

- 

- 

20,833 

29,896 

— 

Cincinnati, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

150,000 

209,223 

60,000 

Citizens, Cincinnati - 

- 

- 

52,500 

67,690 

25,000 

Cleveland, Cleveland 

- 

- 

414,400 

530,208 

700,000* 

Commercial, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

100,000 

158,987 

13,000 

Commercial Mutual, Cleveland 

- 

210,210 

349,624 

400,000* 

Cooper, Dayton 

- 

- 

23,800 

32,527 

— 

Eclipse, Cincinnati - 

- 

- 

27,350 

46,667 

2,500 

Farmer’s, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

23,360 

24,142 

10,000 

Farmers’, Jelloway - 

- 

- 

100,000 

131,626 

— 

Farmers and Merchants’, 

Dayton 

32,000 

53,770 

— 

Farmers, Mer. & Mftrs’, Hamilton 

100,000 

123,366 

— 

Firemen’s, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

100,000 

225,600 

29,500 

Firemen’s, Dayton 

- 

- 

100,000 

126,893 

— 

Franklin, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

100,000 

132,465 

65,000 

Franklin, Columbus - 

- 

- 

70,000 

88,071 

— 

German, Cleveland - 

- 

- 

200,000 

281,260 

436,657* 

German, Dayton 

- 

- 

22,500 

28,347 

— 

Germania, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

100,000 

127,858 

3,500 

Germania, Toledo 

- • 

- 

45,000 

54,500 

7,000 

Globe, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

100,000 

378,143 

40,000 

Hamilton, Hamilton - 

- 

- 

17,500 

41,620 

— 

Hibernia, Cleveland - 

- 

- 

200,000 

225,000 

360,000* 

Home, Columbus 

- 

- 

500,000 

637,947 

300,000 

Home, Toledo - 

- 

- 

69,000 

76,335 

— 

Jefferson, Steubenville 

- 

- 

43,392 

60,632 

— 

Merchants & Manfts., Cincinnati 

150,000 

266,780 

14,500 

Miami Valley,-Cincinnati 

- 

- 

100,000 

141,094 

15,000 


270 FIGHTING FIRE. 

Gross Assets, 


Name. 



Capital. Jan. 1, 1871. 

Losses. 

Miami Valley, Dayton 

- 

- 

26,100 

51,133 

— 

Mutual, Toledo 

- 

- 

90,000 

90,249 

3,000 

National, Cincinnati - 

- 

- 

100,000 

120,514 

3,000 

Ohio, Chillicothe 

- 

- 

40,000 

49,092 

— 

Ohio, Dayton - 

- 

- 

35,282 

54,818 

— 

Ohio Valley, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

50,760 

79,921 

32,000 

People’s, Cincinnati - 

- 

- 

20,000 

48,928 

5,000 

Sun, Cleveland 

- 

- 

200,000 

301,340 

175,000 

Teutonia, Cleveland 

- 

- 

200,000 

237,016 

1,000,000* 

Teutonia, Dayton 

- 

•» 

25,000 

46,572 

— 

Toledo, Toledo 

- 

- 

75,000 

105,837 

— 

Union, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

100,000 

130,845 

27,500 

Washington, Cincinnati 

- 

- 

129,100 

148,747 

21,000 

Western, Cincinnati - 

- 

- 

100,000 

178,550 

31,000 

CALIFORNIA COMPANIES 

l. 


Firemen’s Fund, San Francisco 

$500,000 

$799,627 

$300,000 

Occidental, San Francisco 

- 

300,000 

474,095 

300,000 

Pacific, San Francisco 

- 


1,000,000 

1,777,267 

1,500,000 

People’s, San Francisco 

- 

- 

300,000 

500,000 

400,000 

Union, San Francisco 

- 

- 

750,000 

1,115,574 

450,000 


MICHIGAN COMPANIES. 



Detroit Fire & Marine, Detroit 

- 

$150,000 

$273,063 

$175,000 


ILLINOIS 

1 COMPANIES. 



American, Chicago - 

_ 

_ 

$150,000 

$548,875 

$1,000 

Aurora, Aurora 

- 

- 

200,000 

220,471 

_ * 

Chicago Fire, Chicago 

o ' o 

- 

- 

101,800 

131,566 

3,000,000* 

Chicago Firemen’s, Chicago 

- 

200,000 

372,544 

3,000,000* 

Commercial, Chicago 

- 

- 

180,000 

266,535 

3,000,000* 

Equitable, Chicago - 

- 

- 

100,000 

120,191 

3,000,000* 

Farmers’, Freeport - 

- 

- 

100,000 

191,303 

— 

Garden City, Chicago 

- 

- 

159,000 

181,489 

2,000,000* 

German, Freeport 


- 

101,000 

119,824 

— 

German Ins. & Sav.’s Co., Quincy 

132,900 

158,951 

— 

Germania, Chicago - 

- 

- 

200,000 

257,821 

1,500,000* 

Great Western, Chicago - 

m 

222,831 

274,125 

227,000 

Home, Chicago 

- 

- 

200,000 

245,338 

• 2,000,000* 

Illinois Mutual, Alton 

- 

- 

113,000 

350,016 

1,100,000* 


CHICAGO. 


171 


Name. 

Capital. 

Gross Assets , 
Jan. 1 , 1871. 

Losses. 

Knickerbocker, Chicago - 

- 160,000 

170,129 

750,000* 

Merchants’, Chicago 

- 500,000 

878,252 

6,000,000* 

Mutual Security, Chicago 

- 118,325 

145,584 

1,800,000* 

Republic, Chicago 

998,200 

1,132,812 

3,500,000* 

Rockford, Rockford - 

100,000 

235,442 

— 

State, Chicago 

- 425,000 

460,000 

3,000,000* 


MARYLAND COMPANIES. 


Maryland, Baltimore 

- $200,000 

$251,157 

$12,000 

Merchants & Mechanics’, 

Baltimore 250,000 

324,208 

200,000* 

National, Baltimore - 

100,000 

224,000 

33,165 

Peabody, Baltimore - 

125,000 

190,388 

10,000 

People’s, Baltimore - 

100,000 

113,094 

17,000 

Potomac, Baltimore - 

75,651 

97,209 

10,000 

Union, Baltimore 

- 100,000 

164,986 

25,000 

Washington, Baltimore 

100,000 

121,804 

— 


CONNECTICUT COMPANIES. 


JEtna, Hartford 


$3,000,000 

$5,782,635 

$2,500,000 

City, Hartford - 

- 

250,000 

554,287 

650,000* 

Charter Oak, Hartford 

- 

150,000 

251,951 

400,000* 

Connecticut, Hartford 

- 

200,000 

405,069 

600,000* 

Fairfield County, Nnrwalk 

m 

200,000 

216,358 

25,COO 

Hartford, Hartford 

- 

1,000,000 

2,737,519 

1,200,000 

Merchants, Hartford 

- 

200,000 

540,096 

1,000,000* 

North American, Hartford 

- 

300,000 

456,503 

800,000* 

Norwich, Norwich 

- 

300,000 

381,736 

350,000* 

Phoenix, Hartford, 

- 

600,000 

1,717,947 

800,000 

Putnam, Hartford 

- 

500,000 

785,783 

1,000,000* 

MAINE 

COMPANIES. 



Eastern, Bangor 

_ 

$150,000 

$237,648 

$7,500' 

National, Bangor 

- 

200,000 

241,308 

17,500 

Union, Bangor - 

- 

200,000 

421,205 

5,000 

PENNSYLVANIA COMPANIES. 


Alleghany, Pittsburg 

- 

$50,000 

— 

— 

Allemania, Pittsburg 

- 

50,000 

— 

— 

Alps, Erie - 

- 

250,000 

265,524 

185,000 

Artisan’s, Pittsburg - 

- 

64,000 

— 

— 


172 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Gross Assets, 


Name. 

Capital. 

Jan. 1, 1871. 

Losses. 

Ben. Franklin, Alleghany 

2,000 

— 

— 

Boatmen’s, Pittsbur^ 

125,000 

— 

— 

Cash, Pittsburg - 

100,000 

— 

— 

Citizens’, Pittsburg - 

100,000 

— 

— 

Enterprise, Philadelphia - 

200,000 

611,654 

325,000* 

Enterprise, Pittsburg 

25,000 

— 

— 

Eureka, Pittsburg - 

175,000 

— 

— 

Federal, Alleghany - 

20,000 

— 

— 

Franklin, Philadelphia 

400,000 

3,087,452 

500,000 

German, Pittsburg - 

50,000 

— 

— 

Girard, Philadelphia 

200,000 

403,062 

13,000 

Ins. Co. of N. America, Philadelphia 500,000 

3,050,536 

500,000 

Ins. Co. State of Pa., Philadelphia 200,000 

512,908 

25,000 

Lancaster*, Lancaster 

200,000 

250,349 

34,000 

Lycoming, Muncy - 

Mutual. 

516,896 

500,000 

Manufac’rs & Merchants’ Piltsbur 

g 125,000 

— 

— 

Monongahela, Pittsburg 

140,000 

— 

— 

National, Alleghany - 

50,000 

— 

— 

Pennsylvania, Pittsburg 

• 115,800 

— 

— 

People’s, Pittsburg - 

76.000 

— 

— 

Pittsburg, Pittsburg - 

100,000 

— 

— 

Western, Pittsburg - 

98,000 

— 

— 

WISCONSIN COMPANIES. 


Brewers’ Protective, Milwaukee 

$104,175 

$183,681 

$200,000 

Northwestern National, Milwaukee 150,000 

191,202 

90,000 

MINNESOTA COMPANIES. 


St. Taul Fire & Marine, St. Paul 

120,000 

280,593 

100,000 

FOREIGN COMPANIES. 


Commercial Union - - -$1,250,000 

$4,000,000 

$65,000 

Imperial - 

3,500,000 

5,438,665 

150,000 

Liverpool & London and Globe 

1,958,760 

20,136,420 

3,500,000 

North British and Mercantile - 

1,350,000 

4,104,598 

2,000,000 

Loyal ----- 

1,444,475 

9,274,776 

98,000 


4 

It will be seen that tlie United States Companies 
have lost $82,821,122; the foreign, $5,813,000; and 


CHICAGO. 


173 

grand total of losses by all companies is $88,634,122. 
Such a sum is almost incomprehensible, or altogether 
be} ond the adequate grasp of any human mind. 



THE COMPANY GLOOMY AND GLUM. 

This is the Company gloomy and glum, 

Which admits that it has some few (?) losses, yes some l 
But its officers think their best motto is “ mum,” 

As they stroke their gray chins and look wise and sing dumb. 

If we say that 5,100 squares, or more than 2,200 

acres, were swept by the remorseless flames in the 

space of twenty-four hours; that from 20,000 to 

26,000 buildings were utterly devoured, or left in 

« 

heaps of unsightly ruins ; that the value of the build- 
ngs alone was fully $75,000,000, and of their contents 
at least as much more, we are oppressed by the mag¬ 
nitude of our statements, and really comprehend 
nothing. Regarding the $150,000,000 of property 
consumed as productive capital—and most of it was 




























































174 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


that, or its equivalent—the income therefrom, reck¬ 
oned at the moderate rate of six per cent., was no 
less than $9,000,000 a year, a sum sufficient to pay 
perpetually the wages of 7,000 workmen, afc two 
dollars a day each, and 3,000 salaried men with 
salaries of $1,500 a year each; in other words, a sum 
sufficient for the comfortable support of no less than 
40,000 souls. 

In saying that the direct losses, regarded as capital, 
represented the wages fund for 10,000 men,, and that 
the arrest of business represents for the time being 
a wages fund even greater, it is not by any means 
meant that more than 20,000 men are thrown out of 
employment, and 100,000 human beings deprived of 
the means of support. Thanks to the modern system 
of insurance, to the modern spirit of enterprise, and 
to the energy and large-heartedness of the people, 



AN ADJUSTER, AS THE CLAIMANT REGARDS HIM. 

but very few willing hands long remained idle. 
Common laborers, and such mechanics as were willing 

' o 







CHICAGO. 


175 


to rough it for a season, found plenty to do in clearing 
away the rubbish, and erecting either permanent or 
temporary structures. 

The questions to be answered are, now, how much 
property was destroyed ? and what was the value of 
the property consumed by the flames ? In the west 
division, where the fire originated, the number of 
acres burned over was 194, including sixteen acres 
which were laid bare by the fire of the previous 
evening. This district contained about 500 buildings, 
inhabited by 2,250 persons. These buildings were 
generally of the poorer class, and comprised a great 
many boarding-houses, saloons, and minor hotels, with 
a few factories. They were not of much value, but 
were closely packed together. This district contained 
also several lumber and coal yards, and planing mills, 
one grain elevator, with the union depot of the Pitts¬ 
burgh and Fort Wayne, and the St. Louis Railroads. 
This depot was much the least valuable of all those 
destroyed. The burned area in the south division 
comprised about 400 acres. With the exception of 
the Lind Block, on the river bank, between Randolph 
and Lake streets, it included all north of an irregular 
line running diagonally from the intersection of Polk 
street with the river, to the corner of Congress street 
and Michigan avenue. This district, though compara¬ 
tively small in extent, was by far the most valuable 
in the city; it was the very heart and head of Chicago 
as a commercial centre. It contained the great 
majority of all those structures which were at once 
costly in themselves, and filled with the wealth of 
merchandise that made the city the great emporium 
of the northwest. All the wholesale stores of any 
considerable magnitude, all the daily and weekly 


176 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


newspaper offices, all the principal banks, the leading 
hotels, many extensive factories (principally of cloth¬ 
ing, boots and shoes, and jewelry), all the offices of 
insurance men, lawyers, produce brokers, &c.; the 
custom-house, court-house, chamber of commerce, all 
the principal public halls and places of amusement, 
many coal yards, the monster Central Railroad Depot, 
with its numerous buildings for the transaction of 



RELICS OF THE CHICAGO FIRE, USED IN THE CONSTRUCTION 

OF THE FIRE MONUMENT. 

business of the Illinois Central, Michigan Central, and 
Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroads, the 
Central Elevator A, the Union Depot of the Michigan, 
Southern (Lake Shore), and Rock Island and Pacific 
Railroads, many public storehouses, a large number 
























CHICAGO. 


177 


of fine residences on the avenues; in short, the great 
bulk of the wealth of the city was located in this 
district. The 3,650 buildings destroyed in the south 
division included 1,600 stores, twenty-eight hotels, 
and sixty manufacturing establishments, and were 
the homes of about 21,800 people. 

In the north division, the flames swept not less 
than 1,470 acres, destroying 13,300 buildings, the 
homes of 74,450 people, and leaving but about 500 
buildings unharmed. These structures included more 
than GOO stores and 100 manufacturing establish¬ 
ments. Most of the latter were situated in the south¬ 
west part of this division, in a few blocks lying east 
of Kinzie street bridge; but there were also many on 
the north bank, towards the lake shore, including 
McCormick’s Reaper Factory, a sugar refinery, box 
mills, etc. The lake shore, from Chicago avenue 
north, was lined with breweries. The river banks 
were piled high with lumber and coal, three grain ele¬ 
vators stood near the fork of the river, and near them 
the Galena Depot, its freight buildings further to the 
east. Many hotels and private storehouses for pro¬ 
duce and other property also existed in this neigh¬ 
borhood, and the wholesale meat markets on Kinzie 
street were a busy centre ot trade. North Clark, 
Wells, and North and Chicago avenues were prin¬ 
cipally occupied by retail stores. The region south 
of the Water Works, and east of Clark street, was at 
one time the most aristocratic part ot the city. It 
contained a great number of fine buildings, occupied 
principally by the earliest settlers or their families. 
This district included many churches, the Rush 
Medical College, the Historical Society building, with 
its treasures, etc. Outside of this section the build- 

11 


178 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


ings in the north division had been, till recently, of 
the poorer class; but the establishment of Lincoln 
Park, and the closing of the old cemetery, had caused 
a radical change in this respect within the five years 
preceding the fire. A large number of very fine 
residences had been erected in the neighborhood of 
the park, and a great improvement was apparent in 
the architecture of the whole north division, except 
one or two small sections, which seemed to have been 
tacitly given up to poverty and its 'accompaniments. 

The total area burned over in the city, including 
streets, was 2,124 acres, or nearly three and one-third 
square miles. This area contained about 73 miles of 
streets, and 17,450 buildings, the homes of 98,500 
people. 

The only buildings left standing between the river 
and the lake, and the river and Madison street, were 
the Lind block at the corner of Randolph and Market 
streets, Hathaway’s coal office, and one of the Buck¬ 
ingham elevators on the lake shore. The destruction 
of five of the great elevators alone involved an 
enormous loss. 


THE ELEVATORS. 

Chicago possessed seventeen elevators at the time 
of the great fire, with a storage capacity for over 
eleven millions and a half bushels of grain. 

The fire consumed five of these, with their contents, 
amounting to 1,600,000 bushels of all kinds of grain, 
principally corn. 

The elevators destroyed include the “ Hiram 
Wheeler,” with a capacity of 500,000 bushels; 
“Munger and Armos’s Galena,” 600,000 bushels; 
"Illinois Central A,” 700,000 bushels; and the 


CHICAGO. 179 

“ Union,” 700,000 bushels. The remaining elevators, 
however, contained about 5,000,000 bushels. 

The following were some of the most important 
structures burned:— 

Among public buildings were—the Court-house, 

consisting of a central portion, erected in 1853, and 

enlarged in 1857, and two wings, each 80 by 130 

feet, and three stories high, besides the basement; a 

handsome stone structure, costing altogether about 

$1,100,000. The Custom-house and Post Office, 

erected in 1858-9 by the general government, cost 

$650,000. The Chamber of Commerce, erected in 

1864-5, at a cost of $225,000, besides a building on 

the south used for offices, the total cost beiiisc 
. ^ . 7 & 
$284,000. The principal building was constructed of 

Athens marble, and covered an area of 91 by 180 

feet; the basement and first floor were occupied by 

banks, insurance offices, and prominent produce 

dealers. Above these was the Exchange Hall, 88 by 

143 feet, with a 44-foot ceiling, in which the 1,250 

members of the Board of Trade used to transact 

business. With these we may note the city property 

other than the Court house; the Armory, Huron 

street, and Larrabee street police stations, five fire 

engine houses, several hook and ladder buildings, and 

eight bridges ($200,000). The public schools burned 

were the Jones, Kinzie, Franklin, Ogden, Pearson 

street, Elin street, La Salle street, and North Branch 

Schools, with several adjunct buildings. 

The railroad property destroyed included the Cen¬ 
tral Depot, at the foot of Lake street, with several 
other buildings, occupied as offices for the Illinois Cen¬ 
tral Land Department, the Michigan Central and Chi¬ 
cago, Burlington and Quincy general offices and freight 


180 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


depots, besides which the dockage of the Illinois Cen¬ 
tral Railroad Company was considerably damaged; 
the depot of the Rock Island and Michigan Southern 
Railroads, the Galena depot, and some wooden struc¬ 
tures belonging to the West Side Union depot. 

The halls, theatres, etc., included the Opera House 
built in 1864, with Beethoven Hall, in the State Street 
front; Farwell Hall, the home of the Young Men’s 
Christian Association; Metropolitan Hall Block, occu¬ 
pied by the Young Men’s Library Association; the 
Museum Block; McVicker’s Theatre, rebuilt in 1871, 
and reopened only a short time before the fire; Dear¬ 
born Street theatre; Hooley & Aiken’s Opera House, 
on the former site of Bryan Hall; Academy of Design; 
Olympic Theatre; German Theatre; and Turner Hall. 
The offices of no less than eighty-five newspapers and 
periodicals were consumed. Several dailies re appeared 
in very small sizps soon after the fire. The Tribune 
building was the last to succumb to the flames by sev¬ 
eral hours. The building was completely gutted from 
the roof to the basement, but the fire-proof vault 
proved perfectly trustworthy, and everything in it, 
even a box of matches, was found intact. 

Fifty million feet of lumber were consumed, besides 
thousands of tons of coal. 

With the exception of the Michigan Avenue Hotel 
and a few others, the great hotels of Chicago were re¬ 
duced to heaps of mortar, calcined marble, bricks and 
broken iron. The Pacific Hotel had been almost com¬ 
pleted at a cost of nearly a million when the huge 
flames rushed into its fourteen hundred rooms and 
roared out of its numberless windows. The building 
occupied an entire square, was eight stories in height, 
and calculated, when furnished, to accommodate two 


CHICAGO. 


181 

thousand guests. It made, perhaps, the grandest spec¬ 
tacle of the great fire. Besides the Pacific and St. 
James Hotel, the Sherman, Palmer, Tremont, Briggs, 
Everett, Clifton, Orient, Oldridge, and other houses fell 
a prey to the flames. 

Of the one hundred and sixty-five churches before 
the fire, thirty-nine had been destroyed at a loss of 
of $2,281,500. 

The Records of the Court House, Pinkerton’s valu¬ 
able criminal records, and the records of the night 
police were totally destroyed. 

The brewers suffered terribly, nothing being saved 
of their huge establishments but a portion of the 
stock in the beer vaults. Moreover, the insurance 
on the property was generally light. Their losses 
amounted to $2,025,000. 

Field, Leiter & Co.’s monster store only caught fire 
at daybreak. For more than an hour and a half sev¬ 
eral hundred men did all in their power to save it 
from the advancing ocean of flame. The building 
occupied an entire block, and from its isolated position 
and its surroundings, being all vast structures of iron 
and marble it was hoped that it might be saved. But 
the buildings on the opposite sides of the squares 
burst into furious flames, melting the great business 
blocks as though formed of wax and timber, and the 
heat became like that of Nebuchadnezzar’s furnace. 
Then the largest dry goods house in the West had to be 
left to its fate, and the flames were soon rioting among 
$2,000,000 worth of costly winter stock. 

There was not a single one of these buildings left 
intact in Chicago. The bank vaults, however, resisted 
the flames with success. The principal telegraph 
offices were all consumed. All the records of deeds 


182 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


and mortgages, all the real estate titles, were destroyed. 
The abstracts of titles in the office of Shortale & 
Hoard, conveyancers, were luckily saved. There was 
not a law office or law library left in Chicago, nor an 
indictment in existence in the county against any 
body, nor a judgment, nor a petition in bankruptcy. 
Duplicate files of important cases which lawyers kept 
in their offices were likewise destroyed. 

But three distilleries remained in running order. 
The establishments owned by Thomas Lynch, Graefft, 
Roclle & Co., Dickinson, Leech & Co., Keller Distilling 
Company, Kirchoff and Shufelett’s rectifying works 
were consumed. 

Every coal yard in the city caught fire, and vast 
piles laid in for winter use were utterly destroyed. 
The coal stock of Rogers & Co. (lower yard), Robert 
Law, Dyer & Paynes, Holbrook W. Johnson, Sydacker, 
Goit & Curtiss, Sweet & Williams, Richardson & Pratt 
Bros., amounting to about 50,000 tons of soft coal and 
10,000 of hard coal, insured—was totally lost. Five 
considerable winter stores of coal were, however, 
saved, including Roger & Co.’s upper yards. 

The list of church property burned is an extensive 
one; it comprises the following: Baptist—North, 
Second, German, and Swedish, North Star, and Lincoln 
Park Mission; Congregational—New England and 
Lincoln Park; Episcopal — Ascension, St. Ausgarius, 
St. James, and Trinity; Jewish — North Side, Sinai, 
Kehilath Benai. Sholom, and Hospital; Methodist 
Episcopal — First (business block), Grace, Van Buren 
Street, Clybourne Avenue, First Scandinavian, Bethel 
(colored), Quinn’s (colored), and $85,000 worth of 
Garret Biblical Institute property ; Scandinavian Lu¬ 
theran— First Norwegian, and Swedish; Presbyterian 




CHICAGO 


183 

First, Mission, Fourth, Bremer Street Mission, Erie 
Street Mission, and Clybourne Avenue Mission; Bo- 
man Catholic — Holy Name, St. Mary’s, Immaculate 
Conception, St. Michael’s, St. Joseph’s, St. Louis’, St. 



UNITY CHURCH—REBUILT (DR. COLLYERS). 


Paul’s, Convents of Sisters of Mercy and Good Shep¬ 
herd, St. Joseph’s Orphan Asylum, Christian Brothers’ 
College, Alexian Hospital, and Bishop’s Palace; Swe- 
denborgian — Temple, and North Mission; Unitarian 
— Unity, Illinois Street Mission, and Mariner’s Bethel. 

Among business blocks the following were the most 
prominent, each being worth $50,000 or over: Ar- 






















































































































































184 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


cade, on Clark near Madison; “ Booksellers’ Bow/’ on 
State near Madison; Bowen’s, on Bandolpli near 
Michigan Avenue; Bryan’s, corner of La Salle and 
Monroe; Burch’s, on Lake, near Wabash Avenue; 
City National Bank; Cobb’s, corner of Lake and 
Michigan Avenue; Commercial Building, corner of 
La Salle and Lake ; Commercial Insurance Company’s, 
on Washington near La Salle; Depository, on Bandolph 
near La Salle ; Dickey’s, corner of Dearborn and Lake; 
Drake & Farwell, corner of Wabash Avenue and 
Washington; Erving, on North Clark, near Kinzie; 
Exchange Bank, corner Lake & Clark; First National 
Bank, corner State & Washington; Fullerton, corner 
Washington and Dearborn; Field, Leiter & Co. (Pal¬ 
mer’s), corner State and Washington; Ilonore (two), 
on Dearborn near Monroe; Illinois State Savings, on 
La Salle* near Washington; Keep’s, on Clark near 
Madison; Kent’s, on Monroe near La Salle; Link’s, 
corner Lake and La Salle; Lill’s Brewery; Lloyd’s, 
corner Bandolph and Wells; Lombard, corner Monroe 
and Custom House Place; McCormick’s, corner Lake 
and Michigan Avenue ; McCormick’s, corner Bandolph 
and Dearborn; McCormick’s Beaper Factory, near 
Bush Street Bridge; Magie’s, corner La Salle and 
Bandolph; Major, corner Madison and La Salle; Ma¬ 
sonic, on Dearborn near Washington; Mechanics’, on 
Washington near La Salle; Mercantile, on La Salle 
near Washington; Merchants’ Insurance Company, 
corner Washington and La Salle; Monroe, corner 
Clark and Monroe ; Morrison, on Clark near Monroe ; 
Newberry, corner Wells and Kinzie; Newhouse, on 
South Water, near Fifth avenue; Oriental, on La Salle 
near Washington; Otis, corner Madison and La Salle; 
Pope’s (two), Madison near Clark; Portland, corner 


THE MONUMENT NOW BEING ERECTED IN CHICAGO TO COMMEMORATE THE GREAT FIRE 





























































































































































































































-- - 








CHICAGO. 


187 


Dearborn and Washington; Purple’s, corner Clark and 
Ontario; Raymond’s, comer State and Madison; Re¬ 
public Life Insurance Company, corner La Salle and 
Arcade court; Reynold’s, corner Dearborn and Madi¬ 
son ; Rice’s, on Dearborn near Randolph; Scammon, 
corner Randolph and Michigan avenue; Shephard’s, 
on Dearborn near Monroe; Smith & Nixon’s, comer 
Washington and Clark; Speed’s, on Dearborn near 
Madison; Steele’s, corner La Salle and South Water; 
Sands’ Brewery; Turner’s, corner State and Kinzie; 
Tyler’s, on La Salle near South Water; Uhlich’s, on 
Clark near Kinzie ; Walker’s, on Dearborn near Couch 
Place; Wicker, corner State and South Water. 

The following valuation of losses was prepared by 
the writer for Colbert and Chamberlin’s “ History of 
Chicago and the Great Conflagration: ” 


Buildings. 


Eighty business blocks enumerated, - 
Railroad depots, warehouses, and Board 
of Trade, - 

Hotels,. 

Theatres, etc., - 

Daily newspapers (offices and buildings), 
One hundred other business buildings, 
Other taxable buildings, 

Churches and contents, 

Public schools and contents, 

Other public buildings not taxed, 

Other public property (streets, etc.), 

Total, - 


$8,515,000 


2,700,000 

8,100,000 

865,000 

888,000 

1,008,420 

2,880,000 

2,989,000 

249,780 

2,121,800 

1,763,000 

$53,000,000 


Produce, etc. 

Flour, 15,000 barrels, - $ 97,500 

Grain, ------ 1,245,000 




188 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Provisions, (4,400,000 lbs.) - 

340,000 

Lumber, - 

1,040,000 

Coal,. 

600,000 

Other produce, - 

1,940,000 

Total Produce, - 

$5,262,500 

Business—Wholesale and 

Retail. 

Dry goods, - 

$13,500,000 

Drugs, ------ 

- 1,000,000 

Boots, shoes, leather, etc , - 

5,175,000 

Hardware, iron, and other metals, - 

- 4,510,000 

Groceries and teas, - 

4,120,000 

Wholesale clothing, 

3,650,000 

Jewelry, etc., 

1,300,000 

Musical Instruments, etc., 

900,000 

Books on sale, - 

1,145,000 

Millinery, - - 

- 1,610,000 

Hats, caps, and furs, 

1,060,000 

Wholesale paper stock, y - 

700,000 

Shipping and dredges, 

800,000 

Manufactures (stock machinery and 

pro- 


duct), ----- 
Other stocks and business furniture, 

Total Business Loss, 


13,255,000 

25,975,000 

$78,700,000 


Personal Effects. 

Household property, - $41,000,000 

Manuscript work (records, etc.), - 10,000,000 

Libraries, public and private, - - 2,010,000 

Money lost (Custom House $2,130,000), 5,700,000 

Total Personal Effects, $58,700,000 

General Summary. 

Improvements (buildings, etc.), - - $53,000,000 

Produce, etc., - - - - - 5,262,500 





CHICAGO 


189 


Manufactures, ----- 13,255,000 

Other business property, - 65,445,000 

Personal effects, - 58,710,000 

Miscellaneous,. 378,000 

Grand Total, - - $196,000,000 

In the first table the contents of churches and 
schools, and of newspaper offices, are included in the 
footing of $53,000,000. Placing these where they 
belong, we shall have the following distribution of 
loss:— 

On buildings, &c., - - $ 52,000,000 

On business property (besides bldgs.), 85,000,000 

On personal effects, - 59,000,000 

Total burned, - - - $196,000,000 

On this there was a salvage of about $4,000,000 
in foundations and bricks available for rebuilding, 
making the actual loss $192,000,000. 

The assessed value of the land in the city, j ust 
previous to the fire, was $176,931,000, which was 
about sixty per cent, of the actual cash value; hence 
the real value of the land within the city limits was 
$294,836,000. On this we estimate an average 
depreciation of about thirty per cent, since the fire, 
though much of this can be but temporary. This 
gives a loss of $88,000,000 on the selling value of 
real estate in consequence of the fire. 

Even yet the total loss is not complete. We must 
allow for the interruption of business and manufac¬ 
turing operations. This would average about six 
weeks, or one-eight part of the whole year. We 




190 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


estimate tliat the fire diminished the receipts of the 
city to the extent of $50,000,000 worth of goods, 
which interrupted business to the extent of $125,- 
000,000 worth of trading, at wholesale and retail. 



IN THE BACK ROOM. 


But you ought to have seen them when, in the back room, 

They poured out anathemas like a mill-flume, 

On that old Leary cow with the crumpled horn 
That kicked over the lamp that set fire to the barn 
That caused the Great Fire in Chicago! 

The very moderate estimate of eight per cent, profit 
would give a further loss of $10,000,000, and we 
shall then have the following as the exhibit:— 

On property burned up, - - - $192,000,000 

On depreciation of real estate, - - 88,000,000 

On interruption to business, - - 10,000,000 


Grand total, 


- $290,000,000 

































CHICAGO. 


191 


We estimate the value of property in the city the 
day before the tire—real and personal, taxed and 
untaxed—at $620,000,000. The loss by the fire was, 
therefore, nearly forty-seven per cent, of the whole 
of the property owned in Chicago. 



AN ADJUSTER, AS HE REGARDS HIMSELF. 

(A Much-abused Individual). 











CHAPTER IX. 

THE GREAT BOSTON FIRE. 

THE THEATRE OP THE FIRE. 


Tlie Situation of Boston.—Inadequate Preparations for its Growth.—Ill 
Adaptedness of its Streets—The Cows the Pioneers in Laying them 
Out.—Old and New Boston.—Great Growth of the City.—Its Wealth 
and its Enterprise.—Its Distinctive Business.—The Displacement of 
Dwelling Houses.—The March of the Merchants.—Splendid Structures 
in the New Business Region—Fatal Mistakes in their Erection.—The 
Territory covered by the Fire. 



HE city of Boston, although excellently 
situated for purposes both of foreign and 
internal commerce, has, from the com¬ 
mencement of its importance, contended 
with serious difficulties in the acquire- 
ment of adequate facilities for both these 
forms of trade. As originally constituted, it was built 
on a peninsula, ranging from one to two miles in width, 
bounded on the east and south by Massachusetts Bay 
and on the north by Charles river; and it included in 
addition two islands whose location, as regards the rest 
of the territory, is expressed in their names—East 
Boston and South Boston. In the part where the city 
was connected with the main land was but a narrow 

( 192 ) 












BOSTON. 


193 


neck of solid soil, close up to which the tide ebbed 
and flowed each day on either side. This “ neck ” the 
Americans commanded from the heights of the vicinity 
at the time of the occupation of the town by the 
British forces, in the first year of the Revolution, and 
over it Washington marched with his little army after 
the troops of the king had evacuated the place. In 
these limits the town had a limited growth for more 
than a century and a half, though, as every one famil¬ 
iar with history knows, it was always important in the 
colonies from the spirit and intelligence of its inhabi¬ 
tants. The deference that was paid them by the other 
colonies, perhaps nearly as much as the fact that resis¬ 
tance first began here, gave to Boston the leading 
position that she maintained throughout the struggle 
for independence. 

But the future commercial importance of Boston 
seems not to have been anticipated by any of her 
earlier people. The town was not only circumscribed 
in its territory, but no plan guided in the formation 
of the avenues by which its different portions were 
connected, and on which its residences and its places 
of trade were built. The tradition is that the tracks 
of the cows were followed in many of them, and the 
irregular, ill-considered, and altogether unsystematic 
appearance that they present, gives almost an air 
of veracity to a statement that was probably first 
made in a spirit of jesting. "I he streets of the earlier 
portion of the city have till within a few years re¬ 
mained almost identical with what they were in the 
beginning. Strangers visiting Boston have found 
them a labyrinth to which the key was most difficult 
to obtain. They began without apparent purpose, 
and ended in a dead wall. It was a study of weeks to, 


194 


FIGHTING FIRE 


it would be hardly correct to say, comprehend the sys¬ 
tem, because there was no system to comprehend; to 
become familiar with their eccentricities would be a 
more accurate statement of the case. Nor was this 
all. They were narrow, as well as crooked and pur¬ 
poseless in their direction. Ten years ago there was 
in the business heart of Boston scarcely a street that 
was half the minimum width recognized as necessary 
in the avenues of other great cities. Even up to the 



VIEW OF FRANKLIN STREET BEFORE THE FIRE. 


latest period, with millions of dollars spent in widen¬ 
ing, but one street—Hanover—could be said to have 
reached the desirable width in the most of its portions, 
though the widening of the southerly part of Tremont 
street, and the increase in area of Washington street 




































































































BOSTON. 


195 

after it reached the “Neck” region, had provided for 
prospective wants. The best avenues in addition to 
these were Pearl street and Franklin street, both in 
the recently burnt region. Washington street, the 
main avenue of the city, was the narrowest of all, 
with the exception above noted, which had necessarily 
given no relief to a business that was not destined for 
years to reach it. 

This was the condition of the older portion of the 
city, in which its entire commerce was concentrated. 
As the city had grown, and its population largely in¬ 
creased, the earlier residences in nearly all that por¬ 
tion east of Washington street gave way to business. 
Those whose removal was thus compelled, together 
with the scores of thousands of others who were added 
to the population, most of them were compelled to 
seek homes in the south°rn section of the city. In 
this way an immense growth had been realized on 
both sides the “ Neck ” above referred to. Many mil¬ 
lions of loads of gravel were brought in to fill up this 
territory, and erect a barrier to the visitations of the 
tide; and a large part of the region from the sea to 
the river is already covered with dwellings. Popula¬ 
tion also set towards the suburbs adjacent. The city 
of Roxbury, the first of these reached, came soon to 
number more Boston men within her borders than of 
those whose business was confined to her own limits. 
From this state of facts annexation almost inevitably 
resulted. A year or two later, Dorchester took the 
same step. These aggregations increased the territory 
of Boston till it became several times larger than as 
originally constituted. The end is not yet, for the 
towns of Brookline and West Roxbury are destined 
very soon to follow the example thus set them. 

12 


196 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Boston has always been a wealthy city, and in the 
increase of her population she has fully maintained 
her relative importance as compared with other cities 
of the nation. Her foreign commerce, which was the 
most considerable of her business in early days, has 
been compelled to yield in its relative value to the su¬ 
perior advantages possessed by New York in its central 
position; but to compensate for this, the leading men 
of Boston have built up a manufacturing system in 
which they have met with signal success. The valua¬ 
tion of the city is greater in proportion to its popula¬ 
tion than that of any other of the great cities of the 
country. The race of “ merchant princes ” is by no 
means extinct; but that of manufacturing princes has 
come up to outnumber it. In the production of cot¬ 
ton and woolen fabrics Massachusetts has Fall River 
and Lawrence and Lowell; in that of leather she has 
Lynn and Danvers, and Haverhill and Milford, and 
many other towns; and Boston herself in all her out¬ 
skirts is lined with factories from which nearly every 
material of American production is sent out. The 
boot and shoe manufacture was for years almost exclu¬ 
sively in Massachusetts, and, though it has arisen 
largely in other regions, yet her own production has 
increased up to her full capacity of achievement in all 
this time. 

The business portion of Boston is the centre from 
which the most of these goods are distributed, and, in 
connection with those devoted to the transactions of a 
large importing trade, the warerooms for this purpose 
were to much the largest extent combined in that area 
which was known as the new business part of Boston. 
On most of this, twenty-five years ago, not a store was 
to be seen. It was occupied generally by substantial 





VIEW ON BRATTLE STREET 



















































































































































































































































* 


9 


\>fc\ 





I 









BOSTON. 


3 97 

dwellings of the better class of people, except in its 
more easterly portion. The wholesale business was 
then, as it still is, transacted between Washington 
street and the bay; but it had not reached south of 
Milk street. The stores of the city were largely of 
brick, and few of them were more than three stories 
in height. About this time, the shoe trade, which had 



VIEW OF WASHINGTON STREET FROM CORNER OF SUMMER. 

been on the northerly side of the wholesale region, 
began to increase in importance very rapidly. It 
could not, without moving away from railroads, extend 
further north or west; the sea was to the east, and the 
dry goods trade was in occupation immediately south 
of it. To meet the exigency, it boldly stretched out 
beyond the dry goods trade altogether, and began to 























































































































































































198 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


establish itself in a region that trade had not before 
entered. Those in it were generally successful and 
very enterprising men. They began the erection in 
this new region of the massive and handsome struc- 
tures for which Boston has since become so widely 
celebrated. They entered Pearl street, and line upon 
line of the finest houses of the city went down before 
this invasion. In a few years the street was vacated 
by all those who had dwelt there, and in place of their 
roof-trees was presented a continuous block of granite 
front stores on either side. The dry goods trade soon 
caught the contagion of this example. From Kilby 
and Milk streets it entered successively Federal and 
Atkinson streets, which were parallel with Pearl and 
west thereof, and at length stretched out to take in 
Franklin street, which ran at a light angle west from 
these last. Then the two traffics seemed to enter 
upon a race with each other in their southern progress. 
In ten years more they had absorbed Summer street, 
High street, Purchase street, and a dozen minor streets 
and places about them, and, leaving their former local¬ 
ities to the grocery trade, the iron merchants, East 
India men, provision dealers, and miscellaneous enter¬ 
prises, had built up a new business territory in Boston, 
covering sixty acres of ground, and unequaled in the 
costliness and elegance of its structures by a similar 
area anywhere on the continent. 

Those who have seen the streets and the stores 
upon them thus characterized will, it is believed, 
agree that there is no exaggeration in the language 
used With regard to them. The largest wealth was 
lavished upon their erection. In Franklin street and 
its vicinity, where the dry-goods, the wholesale 
clothing, and the woolen trade had extensive posses- 


BOSTON. 


m 


sion, were the finest buildings of all. The initiative 
in building was taken here by the trustees of the 
Joshua Sears’ estate. Joshua Sears was one of the 
earlier eccentric Boston merchants. He lived a 
largely solitary life, was very penurious in his habits, 
and died leaving a property of a million dollars in 
value, to which his only son, a youth of tender years, 
was ultimate heir. His will placed this in the hands 
of trustees for twenty or thirty years, and directed 
that it should be invested in real estate. The trus¬ 
tees decided to begin their investment in Franklin 
street, and their first erection was in a memorial 
building to the testator. It was made six stories 
high, built of the purest Concord granite, and ele¬ 
gant'y and elaborately ornamented. The trustees 
then commenced to buy wherever property was for 
sale in the street. Other of the capitalists of Boston 
saw, as they supposed, the opportunity for an excel¬ 
lent money investment, and the beautifying of Boston 
in connection with it. They began to vie with each 
other in their purchases. Property rose to treble its 
earlier value. The first Sears store was a model 
that was closely followed, and Franklin street was 
made in two or three years the handsomest street, in 
its mercantile structures, perhaps in the world. 

But, with all this lavish liberality in the outlay for 
building material, it appeared to be forgotten that 
the splendid stores were, after all, built upon avenues 
deplorably contracted. Not an effort was made 
anywhere to widen them. They were taken exactly 
as the hap-kazard spirit of Boston had laid them out 
more than a century earlier, with the exception of 
cases in which alleys for foot-passengers were ex¬ 
panded into narrow streets. The effort was to cover 



200 FIGHTING FIRE. 

the territory as closely as was possible, and then to 
build the stores upon it as high into the heavens as 
trade, with the assistance of a system of elevators, 
could make available their occupation. They rose 
in beauty, in magnitude, and in superficial strength; 
but the danger to which they were most of all 
subjected seems to have been overlooked. Most of 
them were of five or six, and some even of seven 


“TRANSCRIPT” OFFICE, WASHINGTON STREET. 

stories, thus placing them out of the reach of the 
ordinary hose of the fire department of the city; and 
no precaution was taken to provide in private hands 
for conducting water to these otherwise inaccessible 
stories. Worse yet, in these stories was placed, as the 





















































































BOSTON. 


201 


result of a fatuity which now seems almost incredible, 
precisely their most exposed points. In their lower 
stories the granite walls were a barrier to withstand 
the approaches of fire. On the top of all this solidity 
of incombustible material, they placed a roof made of 
the slightest and most inflammable pine rafters, 
covered it in many instances with a material coated 
with tar, and, to crown the heedlessness of danger, 
added outside a wooden coping as a conductor of 
flame from one point to another! As was well 
remarked, it was like placing a maiden lady’s fashion¬ 
able bonnet upon the head of a warrior clad in mail. 

The great fire which we are about to chronicle 
originated on the southerly edge of the newer region 
of stores that we have thus described, marched 
through to its center, spread over its entire area, and 
before twelve hours had passed not one of all its 
magnificent edifices but was a mass of blackened 

o 

ruin. 


CHAPTER X. 


BEFORE THE FIRE. 

* 

Earlier Exemption of Boston from Great Fires.—Improvements in its 
Fire Department.—Security Felt Among its Citizens—Portland fur¬ 
nishes the First Note of Alarm.—Its Effect only Temporary.—Chicago 
Startles the World.—Boston Still Undisturbed in its Confidence in 
Itself.—Impossible that the Scene of Chicago can be Repeated.—Yet 
the Prophet Arises, and Points Out the Very Spot of Danger.—He is 
not Honored in his own Country.—Torchlight Processions.—The Horse 
Disease.—It Infests the Fire Department, which strangely Succumbs 
to it. 


HERE was, on the part of the citizens of 
Boston, entire absence of serious appre¬ 
hension of a fire of wide extent, or 
general in its destruction. The place 
had almost never, in its later years, 
been visited by any serious calamity 
of this character. The Historical Society of Mas¬ 
sachusetts had preserved records of severe fires in 
the seventeenth century, some of which were, perhaps, 

( 202 ) . 




BOSTON. 


203 


almost as disastrous proportionally to valluation as 
the great fire of 1872. There had been no sweeping 
conflagration in Boston in the present century, and 
very few fires so memorable as to be retained gene¬ 
rally in memory by the people. A great fire swept 
over Charlestown, just opposi e Boston, across the 
water of Charles river, about forty years before the 
present date, in the extinguishment of which the 
Boston department were conspicuous. This created 
a feeling of concern for the time being. Time wore 
on, and now and then a large hotel, a theatre, or 
church, or a public hall was consumed; but none of 
the flames of these swept over any considerable 
area. 

By and bye, steam came to be introduced as an 
aid in the Fire Department. This greatly added to 
the feeling of safety. With the old fire engines 
vanished largely that element of insubordination 
among the members of the department that had 
always occasioned more or less of uneasiness, and 
with the -increased efficiency which steam furnished 
in the volume, strength, and steadiness of the streams 
of water carried, came also the security of having a 
thoroughly disciplined departin' nt, whose sole busi¬ 
ness it was to serve the city in this form of protection. 
The insurance companies became convinced, also, 
that gain to them would be found in coope;aling 
with the Fire Department. They therefore organized 
at their own expense a separate bra ch of the service, 
known as the "Insurance Brigade,” whose special 
effort was directed to entering houses in flames, or 
such as were threatened by them, and rendering aid 
before water could be brought to bear. Every thing 
really tended to increase the feeling of safety. The 


204 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


insurance companies, which would be supposed to 
have a keen eye to what was needed, do not seem to 
have been greatly apprehensive. Rates were not 
high. Insurance stocks were profitable, and invest¬ 
ments in them were large. Some of them commanded 
a premium of two hundred per cent., and the mutual 
companies were generally prosperous. 

In the mean time, the new territory that we have 
described, with all the elegance of its buildings, had 
been completed. During the twenty years that it 
was in progress, there had been occasional fires upon 
it, but none of magnitude. Risks there stood favor¬ 
ably at insurance boards in comparison with other 
sections of the city. It was occasionally conjectured 
that a great conflagration might occur; but for a long 
time no one located it in this part of the city. It was 
rather apprehended at the Highlands, which are 
almost entirely built over with wooden houses, that 
have been brought much closer together by the 
additions of the last few years; or in the excessively 
compact region west of the great fire, between 
Washington and Tremont streets, and running from 
Court to Boylston street; or among the motley and 
miscellaneous structures further north, occupied by 
business that is more hazardous, or by the foreign 
population, often crowded with several families in the 
same building. 

The first note of alarm came from the Portland fire 
in 1866. This startled the people of Boston. It gave 
evidence of how terrible might be the extent of fires 
even with all that had been done to provide means for 
their suppression, and lessened somewhat the tran¬ 
quillity with which reliance had been placed upon 
steam engines for that object. It made men more 


BOSTON. 


205 


cautious and more guarded in their restrictions upon 
the use of combustible materials. Still, it was not 
deemed that this indicated danger in business quarters, 
except as business quarters were contiguous to lines 
of wooden structures that were exposed. The lesson 
taught was only that a great conflagration was still 
possible. This was sufficiently startling to put men on 
their guard. The newer precautions were directed to 
the suburbs more than the centre, the impression con¬ 
tinuing that the exposed point was in the wooden 
buildings of the city. Its granite stores were felt to 
be barriers against rather than breeders or conductors 
of fire. As time passed on, the monitions received 
from the Portland casualty faded out of the public 
mind almost altogether. Fourth of July fireworks 
w^ere the incendiaries of this city, and the Fourth of 
July riotousness with crackers, squibs, and rockets, 
soon became as great in Boston as ever. 

But in October, 1871, the destruction at Chicago 
appalled the world. This second warning came in the 
form of the greatest conflagration known in history. 
Men stood amazed and awe-stricken before its fearful 
manifestation. Boston shared with the rest of the 
nation in the realization of the horror of the scene • 
and the magnitude of the devastation wrought. It 
was impossible not to comprehend this, and to appre¬ 
ciate its fearful character. But it was much more 
difficult to conceive that a similar danger menaced a 
city so much older, and so much further east, as was 
the capital of Massachusetts. People thought to 
themselves, “ This great western metropolis, built in 
haste, and with ill-adapted material that affords but 
insufficient security; inhabited by a conglomerate 
assemblage gathered from all the states of the Union ? 


206 


FIGHTING FI HE. 


and still more, perhaps, from most of the nations of 
Europe ; energetic, headstrong, heedless; impelled by 
a reckless impulse to gain present purposes, and taking 
slight concern for the stability of the future, have in 
effect placed itself upon the crater of a volcano. The 
eruption has come. If its people did not use the torch 
that occasioned it, they should have known that they 
were living in a region which, from their own want of 
care in its construction, was ready to come down about 
them at any moment. We pity Chicago. We have 
no disposition to reproach her now in her calamity. 
Far from it. If she was somewhat fast and furious in 
her methods of going ahead, there is a glory in the 
energy of her people with which we cordially sympa¬ 
thize. They inherit, many of them, much of this 
spirit from ourselves. They are our children or our 
brethren. We stretch out our hands to them in this 
affliction.” That those hands were extended, and that 
they were not empty, the world knows. But Boston 
never dreamed of a similar calamity befalling herself, 
except as one of the remote possibilities. Her growth 
was not that of a day ; she had, as she thought, budded 
secure the foundations and the superstructure of her 
•business palaces. Chicago structures were but as 
houses of sand compared to her own. And even the 
want of safe guards supposed to have existed at Chi¬ 
cago would not, it was felt, altogether account for the 
calamity. It seemed like a visitation of Providence to 
a considerable extent, the continued drought and the 
heavy wind combining to produce conditions without 
which the conflagration would have been much earlier 
arrested. 

Boston, however, sent its chief engineer to Chicago 
to investigate the causes of the extent of the fire, and 




JOHN S. DAMRELL, CHIEF OF THE BOSTON FIRE DEPARTMENT. 










































































BOSTON. 


209 


to gain enlightenment for his own post of duty from 
what was done, or what failed to be done, to prevent 
its spreading. This official returned and made a re- 

9 

port containing some history of observations effected, 
some criticisms upon systems that prevailed at Chicago, 
and some suggestions as regarded the safety of Boston. 
In this latter connection, there were words questioning 
the safety of the Mansard roofs, and speculations as to 
the danger that might result from them in case of a 
great fire. The chief engineer hid before this directed 
attention to the crowded manner in which some of the 
streets were built over, and the lack of safety in the 
combinations of iron and granite about their first 
stories from the ground. There was, in all these, 
however, nothing like a specific and an impressive 
warning. There could not have been, in the nature of 
the case. The chief suggested dangers because he 
had been asked to search them out, and dangers so 
obvious as these could not escape his observation. 
But lie did not believe the risk to be serious. The . 
sufficient proof of this is in the fact that he took no 
measures to meet it. The fire found him entirely un¬ 
prepared to encounter these dangers which he had 
himself predicted : and of course the fair presumption 
is that he had no real belief in the likelihood of their 
occurring. 

The men who owned the stores and the men who 
occupied them were generally undisturbed in their se¬ 
curity. Boston, they reasoned, was one of the oldest 
and most conservative of cities. It had given more 
care and attention to the protection and safety of its 
people than any city in the country. Its city govern¬ 
ments, if they did sometimes spend a trifle too much 
money in junketings, were cautious and considerate 


210 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


in their action as it affected the general status of city 
affairs. They had a fire department in which were 
combined all the improvements for the extinguishment 
of fires. It was supposed to be well organized and 
well disciplined. It had almost always been successful, 
and was often the subject of eulogy. In addition to 
all, their stores were the most firmly built of any in 
the city; there was less that was combustible about 
their structure; they were most of them closed soon 
after daylight had departed; and the nature of the 
business itself was such that there were no extra haz¬ 
ards from fire attending it. 

The city was not without its prophet of calamity, 
however. A month af. er the fire at Chicago, a Mr. 
Joseph Bird, a gentleman unknown to most of the 
citizens of Boston, and not an owner or occupant of 
any of these stores, pondered the terrors of that ca¬ 
lamity carefully in his mind, made himself familiar 
with the material of which the roofs of these stores 
were composed, and comparing their combustible 
character with the non-inflammable constituents that 
a e considered indispensable in similar roofings in the 
great cities of Europe, was strongly impressed with a 
sense of the danger that existed just here. He sat 
down and wrote at once to one of the papers of the 
city a letter of warning, in which, after fully detailing 
the danger to be apprehended from the mistaken con¬ 
struction of the Mansard roofs, he concludes with this 
remarkable prediction: 

“ When that dozen lumber-yards on the roof is once 
well on fire, it will be taken, not by little sparks only, 
but by cords, into and upon every building within half 
a mile! Every window on the line of the gale will 
be broken into by the fiery brands, every place where 



BOSTON. 


211 


there is wood for fire to catch upon,'and fires will soon 
be rushing from fifty of those windows or roaring 
from the exposed wood. Such a fire (and they will 
surely occur) will stop just where there is no more 
W'ood to burn. The earnest men of the fire depart¬ 
ment, with their apparatus, would be as inefficient as 
would the writer with one of his ten-dollar machines. 
Then would come the story, so lately told of Chicago: 
‘ Awful conflagration! Boston in ruins! Thousands 
of houses and the business portion of the city in 
ashes!’ ” 

Mr. Bird’s letter, which at this date appears so well- 
reasoned, and so irresistible in its conclusions, at the 
time of its appearance made no impression whatever. 
Most people did not even do him the honor to read it. 
Others, principally of the more timid and foreboding 
classes, and perhaps some of those who had realized 
by observation the advantage in thoroughness which 
the Old World generally possesses over the New', were 
inclined to assent to the justice of his premises, and 
perhaps felt a more or less momentary dread that his 
conclusions might prove to be correct. He did not 
secure an identity with the mass of the public, and in 
a day or two his warnings were forgotten. It was 
destined that in one year, almost to a day, sad realiza¬ 
tion should vindicate their wisdom. 

Boston during the first two months of the autumn 
had participated largely in the excitement of the Pres ? 
idential canvass. Scarcely a night but her streets 
were aflame w r ith torches. These were borne almost 
exclusively by boys. Thousands of lads, who would 
have been deemed most unfit to carry fire through 
the streets under other conditions, appeared ■constantly 
with theif flaming messengers, and the discharges of 


212 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


fire-works and the illuminations upon their routes 
added to the risk run. The city passed safely through 
this trial. Politics had made some interruption to 
business, but the end of it all was visibly nearing, 
when the horse distemper suddenly appeared. Almost 
in a day nearly every horse in the city was disabled. 
The streets were deserted of the usual vehicles of 
travel, and more than the stillness of the Sabbath at¬ 
tended its business quarters. Men then began to have 



VIEW OF WINTHROP SQUARE. 

the most serious apprehensions of fires that had yet 
been felt. What if one should break out, and the 
engines could not reach it in season to prevent its 
dangerous spreading ? ” was the anxious inquiry. The 
reply was, that the department had undoubtedly pro¬ 
vided for such an emergency even in the worst days 
















































































































BOSTON. 


213 

of the distemper. It was believed that direC Aons had 
been issued to seize and appropriate horses anywhere, 
rather than encounter the hazard of widespread de¬ 
struction. Nevertheless, the alarm bells, whenever they 
sounded, were heard with more solicitude than ever 
before. Never except in one instance (when the city’s 
supply of water gave out, the winter previous) had 
there been such marked apprehensions. 

The city gradually recovered from its visitation by 
the horse disease. In two weeks from its first appear¬ 
ance, the absence of horses from the streets had ceased 
to be observed. The liorse-cars were running again, 
and business had sprung up with increased alacrity to 
make up time lost from recent obstacles. All sense 
of insecurity from the lack of means of locomotion in 
the fire department had vanished from the public mind. 
It was soon to be proved how fatally misplaced was 
this renewal of confidence. Though horses had re¬ 
appeared in the streets, and were as readily to be ob¬ 
tained for all general purposes as ever, those attached 
to the fire department had not recovered. This fact 
had been kept from the public by those in the control 
of the force. Much worse than this. Altogether in¬ 
credible as it may seem to those who knew the depart¬ 
ment only by its reputation for efficiency, no measures 
had been taken to supply this known deficiency. With 
a city containing several thousands of horses fully re¬ 
covered from their prostration and in almost as good 
a condition to work as they ever were, the alarm of 
the great fire found the steam fire engines almost alto¬ 
gether unprovided with them. Men were compelled 
to draw the engines to the scene of the fire, and some 
of them came over two miles by this propulsion. How 
precious was the time lost in this way, who can esti- 

.. 13 



214 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


mate ? , r J may be that the fire would have been con¬ 
fined almost to its original limits, as it was evident 
that the Chief Engineer believed almost any fire in 
the city could be. Yet it is not safe to speak with 
certainty on this point; for from its very beginning 
this fire exhibited a fury in its flames that was alto¬ 
gether aside from the ordinary experience of burnings 
in Boston. 



SIGNAL LAMP. 









































CHAPTER XI. 


THE NIGHT BATTLE WITH THE FIRE. 


A Satisfactory Day followed by a Placid Evening.—The First Note of 
Warning.—The Fatal Delay.—Early Fury of the Flames.—The City 
Alarmed and Aroused.—Fearful March of the Fire to the North.—It 
Envelops the Grandest Block in the City.—Startling Splendor of tho 
Scene.—Eastward Progress of the Conflagration.—Streets Swept down 
Before it.—Acres of Flame.—Sublimity on Earth and in Air.—Showers 
of Fiery Grandeur.—Sweeping to the Sea.—Millions upon Millions 
Annihilated.—Efforts to Preserve-Property.—Flames Carried to Other 
Regions.—The Eastern Limit Reached. 



jATUBDAY, the ninth of November, 1872, 
was one of the peculiarly beautiful days of 
the unequaled autumn climate of New Eng¬ 
land. It proved to be, up to the decline of 
the sun, perhaps the most cheerful in Boston 
business circles that had been known for 
The Presidential election, which always in¬ 
terferes with business more or less, was over, and had 


months. 




216 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


been settled to the satisfaction of the larger class of 
mercantile men. The horse disease, which for a few 
days had almost paralyzed the operations of trade, and 
had excited serious apprehensions in the minds of 
those to whom the use of the horse was indispensable 
in the reception and delivery of goods, had seemed to 
vanish almost as suddenly and mysteriously as it origi¬ 
nally appeared. Stores had been crowded throughout 
the city. The operations of trade had been large, and 
there was an excellent prospect for the week that was 
to follow. Saturday night was at hand. It is the one 
night Qf the secular days of the week when business 
in the wholesale trade is not allowed to extend into 
the evening. Before six o’clock the labors of the day 
were ended, and those engaged in them had almost 
universally repaired to their homes in the city or the 
suburbs. As the moon rose in a cloudless sky, and 
shed its pale beams upon what was soon to be the 
theater of one of the most fearful scenes of destruc¬ 
tion by fire ever witnessed, stillness and almost deser¬ 
tion marked the spot. An occasional light in a store, 
betokening the presence of some belated clerk or 
laggard porter, was the only sign of life that the in¬ 
teriors of these marts of trade furnished; and the 
tramp of now and then a wayfarer through the streets 
contrasted strikingly with the throngs which had occu¬ 
pied them in the busy hours of the day. A hundred 
millions of property was massed either in stores or in 
stock upon the newer area of the business of Boston. 
That area, covered sixty acres of land. Its massive 
beauty of architecture was finely brought out by the 
lunar light. From an aesthetic point of view alone, 
the city cherished these stores as among its chiefest 
treasures. Aside from this species of attraction, there 


BOSTON. 


217 


was more representation of money value, and more of 
that solid, substantial property which ministers to the 
comfort of men, upon this area than upon a similar 
space almost anywhere else upon the continent. It 
were difficult, the nation over, to inflict a blow upon 
property which would carry with it more destruction. 

An hour later, at almost precisely seven o’clock, a 
passer over the southerly edge of this territory ob¬ 
served indications of fire in the large dry-goods house 
on the corner of Summer and Kingston streets. The 
alarm was instantly given ; but before an engine could 
be brought to the spot, the flames had bur^t out of the 
upper stories. They began with a fury which indica 
ted that they had obtained a strong lodgment beh 
the fire w T as discovered. The engines reae 1 
ground tardiljg propelled, most of them, b T 
stead of horse power, and the delay in br 
to bear upon the flames seemed intermi 
anxious watchers who began to gather, 
th’no- had been done to combat the fire, 1 
with astonishing fury. The blaze seeme 
simultaneously every story of the buildir 
broke out. The large stock of cotton 
which it was stored created an immense 
flame, that burst from every possible outlet, 
itself high over the roof, it sent its warm, 
almost instantly in all directions. Its rang 
scarcely less limited in a horizontal direction. Sti 
across the street it swept, protruding its.fiery tong, 
into the very windows of the stores there situated. 
When the firemen at last entered upon their work, 
they found themselves in the outset contending wi h 
a double-headed monster. The north side of Summer 
street, as well as the south, was on fire. The flames 


218 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


had taken two lines—the one east, and the other north, 
and in either direction they were making appalling 
inroads. The heat they sent out was so intense that 
no fireman could live in its vicinity except by being 
constantly showered with water. .The men stood to 
their work bravely, but before the least impression 
was made, the walls of the first building fell, and its 
brands set still further fires in a south and west direc¬ 
tion. Thus, at the very outset of the conflagration, 
before indeed one hour had passed, the situation was 
most serious. 

The alarm-bells of the city rang repeated warnings, 
nd the people began to learn that it was no ordinary 
urgency that was upon them. Crowds hurried to 
and appeals for help were dispatched in every 
T he fire took its first rapid march to the 
3 the block in which it broke out was still 
• half consumed, that which was opposite 
received the flames spread them with a 
h was in the largest decree alarming. 

o o o 

is a solid square of the most massive ma- 
on. It was bounded west by Otis street, 
outhernmost continuation of Devonshire, 
ad its face in the well-known Beebe block 
were stores six stories in height. These 
#inthrop Square, from which the space was 
before them to Franklin street. Otis street, 
which the fire first raged, was one of the narrow- 
avenues in the entire district. It was impossible 
.or the fire department to make its stand abreast the 
fire within its limits, for the flames literally enveloped 
all the time the entire street, and soon set the opposite 
stores also on fire. The only hope of resisting was to take 
it from the north. This was done at a great disadvan- 


BOSTON. 


219 


tage. The firemen did not succeed in making a shadow 
of impression. The fire strode on with accelerated 
rapidity as each new building was reached. In less 
than two hours’ time the whole square had been 
traversed. The Beebe block, in which two stores 
alone had each over a million of dollars in goods, was 
afire in all its parts. From its whole extent moun¬ 
tains of flame were sent up to the sky. As the scene 
was beheld directly in front, where Devonshire enters 
Franklin street, its magnificence exceeds the power of 
w T ords to picture. The noble facade was for one mo¬ 
ment obscured by the densest cloud of smoke; then 
instantly a hundred windows each emitted its se- 
arate flame, and high over all towered a stupem" 
sheet of fire, that reached apparently a hur 
into the sky. The solid granite quivered r 
before it as if it had been card-board 
writhed under its approaches, and curie 
together into shapes the most fantastic, 
its heavy clouds of smoke would envelc 
all about as in a pall; the next the lurk 
illuminate everything within the range Oi 
fearful brilliancy. And in the midst of ; 
wide-extended front gave way and h\ 
down in one terrific mass of ruin, the earth 
neath it, and the concussion hushed for th 
into silence the immense mass of spectators th 
awe-stricken to witness the fearful grandeur 
scene. 

Meantime the fire, though still comparative 
sluggish in the immediate spot of its origination, 
had excited equal alarm in its other manifestations. 
Singularly enough, it had gone south for but a rod 
or two, and in this direction, which was the only one 


220 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


outside the more valuable property threatened, it had 
been arrested. West it was marching with compara¬ 
tive slowness up Summer street towards Washington 
street; but east it began to be every whit as threat¬ 
ening as in its northerly progress. The whole square 
between Otis and Devonshire streets was consumed. 
The narrowness of the street on the east as well as 
the west side was in itself an almost decisive obstacle 
to the fire department, and, in addition, the flames 
had now occupied the whole length of the line to 
Winthrop Square. Every inch of this was exposed, 
and not an inch of it could be effectually covered. 
Air some time an unequal, and, as it proved, a fruit- 
' stand was made against it at the junction of 
and High streets, below Devonshire street, 
e line that divided the wool and the shoe 
e dry goods trade. An open space and 
of brick seemed to offer a point of 
it all effort was impotent. Even while 
ozen engines to bear, the flames had 
: down the line in a grand mass, and 
if Federal street was simultaneously 
his settled the fate of the eastern section 
A solid body of fire, extending forty or 
, was formed, and it was entirely evident 
ing could arrest its ravages before it reached 
rs of the bay. 

i the overwhelming proportions of the calamity 
borne in upon the minds of men, and they 
jdzed to the fullest extent the woe that had over- 
,aken them. The city was, in its finest district, at 
the mercy of an element which had assumed the 
mastery over man, who must stand powerless before 
its dreadful ravages. An hour passed on, and Federal 


BOSTON. 


221 


street, as far as Franklin street, had been traversed 
and laid low. Throughout this entire length the 
fire was passing unresisted east into Congress street. 
The contest on High street had been abandoned, and 
the line of fire was nearly doubled by its speed in 
that quarter. Down streets, taking lines of stores in 
its way, or across them, sweeping them simultaneously 
into ruin,—it was a question of only a slight difference 
in the rate of its march. Eastward, nothing could 
offer it the most momentary impediment. The wool 
houses of Federal street and Congress street were all 
on fire shortly after midnight; High street had beer 
swept store by store, with its long lines of houses r 
the shoe trade. Pearl street was already re r 
The fire was absolute master, and was lording 
its realms of desolation, adding every momc 
amount of destruction gathered in. 

The terrific spectacle which this half 
of buildings simultaneously in flames 
forever haunt the memory of those whu 
Skirting its area on the north or east, one 
to realize in some degree the tremendous 
that the fire had assumed. It was not . 
of a great block of buildings, or even of 
of streets, in flames. It was a sea of fire, sw 
lurid billows over a vast extent of solio 
Above it all, in the upper heavens rested one 1 
cloud of smoke, behind which dimly rode the 
This spread like a pall over the scene, and furn 
it a background against which the red glow of u 
flames assumed a new and more awful vividness. 
Between this cloud and the flames, the entire heavens 
were filled with millions upon millions of burning 
cinders, which spangled the archway with a brilliancy 


222 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


such as only those who witnessed it are adequate to 
conceive. In tlip streets toward the water, these fell 
in a continuous rain of fire. Before one layer was 
extinguished upon the pavement, another fell to take 
its place. It was an unending descent of fiery 
missiles, and the streets were carpeted with fire, 
precisely as snow covers them in winter. Through 
this hundreds of men and women walked. Brands 
fell heavily upon many of them. In the excitement 
of the scene, they were unmindful of the danger, if 
danger there was. The sense of the appalling mag¬ 
nitude of the destruction, and the fearful sublimity 
ith which it was attended, swallowed up every other 
‘on. 

is region began the first scenes of household 
'v In some of the courts leading out of the 
trade had taken from families, a few of 
■'S had been left standing. The exist- 
tliese was unknown to anybody but 
stores were in the vicinity, and men 
they saw emerge from forgotten spots 
, members of families bearing with them 
3 , chairs, anything that could be snatched 
impending destruction. The proportion of 
was so small, that most of those composing 
,ared for, and personal suffering of this kind 
hably not seen at all by many who passed 
^ht about the fire. There were no shrieks, and 
little lamentation was heard. The greatest 
^rferers were the strong men who were losing by 
scores and hundreds of thousands, and who, if momen¬ 
tarily stunned by the loss, had the fortitude to meet 
it in a manly spirit. There had appeared to be, up 
to this time, an exemption to a great degree from 



WORKING GIRLS ENDEAVORING TO SAVE THEIR CLOTHING AND EFFECTS. 


















































































































































































































































































































































BOSTON. 


225 


personal danger, also. No man was mad enough to 
approach the Haines except experienced firemen, and 
these had found the proportions of the fire so enor¬ 
mous that the hope of success by resisting it in 
detail was not awakened. As the fire spread across 
streets, instead of on their line, however, the situation 
changed in a degree. On Federal street was a large 
wooden building used as a carriage mart. This caught 
like tinder, and in the advance of the flames on either 
side which assailed the street from the rear. It was 
enveloped in an incredibly brief period by the 
devouring element. The first life lost of which ther 
is record occurred here, as the flames passed be 
two men who were in its interior, and shut o 7 
of egress. They were the only casualties ir 
of the city. 

Pearl street had not long to await i 
which it was destined. Down High str^ 

Congress street the flames swept, an 
simultaneously at an angle and in line, 
it was utterly destroyed. Every store in 
pied by the shoe and leather trade. Imm 
these articles, either in the raw state or m 
were swept out of existence, and still the aw 
destruction was not stayed. The fire passed 
swept on into Oliver street, a large portion 
it annihilated. But the water was by this time 
In connection with a large area of vacant tt 
known as Fort Hill, which the city had recently 
eled to meet the requirements of trade, the ocl 
proved a barrier to the eastward. The flames were 
most vindictive in this quarter. In the northerly por¬ 
tion of this eastern sweep their rage was less apparent, 
or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that there 


226 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


was less fuel to feed them. They had burnt to the 
water’s edge, and had left nothing in their track. The 
fire department was at length at liberty to concen¬ 
trate its efforts in other quarters. 

All these efforts were needed, as will soon be made 
but too evident. But before leaving this part of the 
scene, reference should be made to other of its feat¬ 
ures. The fire, as has been stated, was early stayed 
in its progress south. There was so little wind ob¬ 
servable that it was hard to tell in what direction was 
its current. A few rods from it scarcely a breath 
f air was felt. The fire created its own current. The 
of this was terrific. A person approaching the 
^ation felt himself to be as if in the midst of a 
le. Its direction was always towards the 
be great vacuum which the rarefication of 
ed. In the upper current, however, the 
e glowing cinders was towards the south- 
was constant danger from the effects 
h it is cause of much thankfulness was 
;aped. The only destruction they caused 
• wooden buildings on the wharves and in 
y. The Hartford and Erie depot, an un- 
discreditable wooden structure, early fell a 
d added to the general illumination by the 
m its mass of burning boards and rafters, 
is on the wharves followed; the shipping was 
once or twice, but was extinguished. A more 
>us injury was in the ignition of the large heaps 
coal on the wharves and in the yards of dealers. 
Thousands of tons were thus consumed, and after 
everything else about the ruins had smouldered into 
ashes, the steady flame of these was seen almost as 
brightly as ever. 


BOSTON. 


227 


The excitement of the scenes in the leather district 
of the fire was greatly heightened by the efforts to 
secure the property, which were actively made for 
hours, and met with a good measure of success. The 
merchants who owned these stocks had had longer 
warning than their neighbors nearer the spot of the 
origin of the fire were able to receive. They appeared 
on the scene in large numbers, an hour or two before 
the fire reached them, and put to use every vehicle 
procurable. The shouting of the drivers of these as 
one after another made his way through the crowd; 
the hundreds of clerks and others who were loadff 
them with cases, rolls of leather, and piles of the 
ufactured article heaped in one upon anot v 
astonishing shortness of time with which a 
be taken, the whip cracked, and the teair 
thread his way amid scores of others to 
deposit for his freight; the hearty satisfae 
as each minute saw the rescue of a n 
precious material; the cheers of the ci 
those engaged in this sole compensati 
amid otherwise universal ruin, and sendi 
something like exultation by the eviden. 
that all was not lost,—all inspired hope t 
when they were most needed. The comp 
the services of a team illustrated unpleasant 
selfishness as well. One man would hire a ^ 
fifty dollars, and the next moment another wo 
bid him with an offer of a hundred. But, to the 
of the owners of these vehicles, it should be said tx. 
they generally kept to their word, in the face of tempr 
ation. “ That store offered me five hundred dollars a 
load,” said one of these men, “■ for all I could save for 
them. I have brought out seven loads; but I shall 


228 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


take only what they can afford to give. I have been 
losing forty dollars a day by the horse disease ; but I 
can make this up better than by imposing upon men 
stripped as these are.” Some of those firms who were 
not so fortunate as to procure the assistance of horses 
did not forget that they might benefit others even in 
their calamity. Large stores were thrown open, and 
the crowd invited in to help themselves. Men, women 
and boys came out laden down with the weight of the 
finest fabrics therein deposited. One young fellow 
told those about him that he had saved fifty pairs and 
ade them his own property. This was not the 
^t kind of acquisition; but it was far better than 
and it was more desirable that even the un- 
'uld take to themselves treasure than that 
lid annihilate it altogether. 

O 




















CHAPTER XI. 

THE NIGHT BATTLE WITH THE FIRE—O 

The Battle on the West.—A Fearfully Critical Situatio 
City Threatened.—The Mayor at the City Hall.—The 
Citizens for the Use of Powder.—The Mayor C 
Excitement in the Crowds.—The People on the Hoi 
of the Scene. —A Sea of Fire.—The Explosions Ill- 
less.—Superhuman Efforts of the Firemen.—They A 
Stand on the Decisive Westerly Line, and Save the 
Yet Raging Furiously at the North.—Advances in One 
: —I lie New Post Office its First Barrier.—It Resists ; 
Yet the Flames Advance Beyond.—They Threaten th 
Exchange.—The Key to State Street.—Will it Hold Out 


) 

HILE such was the aspect at the 
portion of the fire, a fiercer bati 
going on with it in other directions, 
had won the victory in its strides towau 
the water. If human power proved as 
impotent to resist it elsewhere, no man 
could tell where its terrible devastation was to end. 
The flames had spread west and north with less 

(229) 
















230 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


rapidity; but they had received no actual check 
from the fire department, or from any measures taken 
by the city government. By midnight, they had 
entered and crossed Franklin street, and along the 
whole territory from Summer to Milk street they 
were steadily approaching Washington street, which, 
as has been said, is in all its lower parts absurdly 
narrow for a main avenue, and is nowhere narrower 
than at this point. It seemed impossible that the fire 
should not cross it. If it crossed it, utter ruin to 
everything in the region was inevitable. The im¬ 
mense Music Hall, a building shut almost away from 
1 reach of the fire department; the Tremont 
He, another massive structure ; the Parker 
nd Young’s Hotel; the splendid City Hall; 
house, all are crowded into this district— 
owded, for, except the small plat of grass 
m front of the City Hall, there is not one 
us room about any of them. Stores and 
lses are jammed in among them also. 
jo such an example of close building, in 
out of it. And to keep this terrific con- 
, which had towered in terror for hours 
irs, and gained in magnitude with every one 
, from entering this territory, there was but 
,ie thread of Washington street over which to 
• 

j’s hearts quailed as never before, and each one 
^ed at his neighbor in terror. The emergency was 
plainly of the most desperate nature. The whole 
city was threatened; for if this dense district were 
reached, even the Common, on which part of it bor¬ 
ders, was no barrier; north and south it must almost 
certainly pass around it. There was nothing to arrest 


BOSTON. 


231 


its progress to Charlestown, to Roxbury, or to the 
Back Bay. The Mayor had some time before this 
reached the City Hall from his residence in the High¬ 
lands, three miles south. The citizens sought him 
with the gravest concern pervading their minds. 
Water had failed them altogether. If it reached the 
fire now, the intense heat converted it to steam before 
it could be brought to have effect. That another 
agent was indispensable was the conviction forced 
home upon many minds. On every hand it was urged 
that powder must be resorted to. General William 
L. Burt, the Postmaster of the City, was among the 
most urgent to the Mayor that powder be employ 
The statutes of the state leave with the 
Engineer of the Fire Department the discre* 
its use. That official was found to object 
had no faith that the fire could be stopped i 
and feared rather that the debris of dest' 
created would add to the ease of its pri 
so urgent became the solicitations of the i 
so general was the conviction among 
people that the experiment should be 
despite the objections of the Chief Eng 
Mayor decided to authorize the explosion of 
There had been no systematic provision in 
for this work, however, and it became nece, 
put it in the hands of volunteer aid. Ten me± 
selected in whom confidence was placed, and a 
ity was given them to proceed. 

Before this decision was reached, the situation fu 
become still more alarmingly critical. The fire ha 1 
exhibited itself in Franklin street with a fierceness 
that it had not before shown in this quarter, and 
scarcely second to that it displayed in its easterly 

14 


232 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


progress. As everywhere else, the? Mansard roof 
had spread it with terrible rapidity. Franklin street 
was one succession of stores built with this head-piece. 
The flames ran from one to the other with a velocity 
that caused new roadways of fire to extend, constantly 
before the vision of despairing beholders. The wooden 
copings about them caught fire like tow. They blazed 
high in heaven one after the other, long before the 
structures beneath them succumbed to a doom no less 
sure, if less speedy. The flimsy work about this 
outer shell was not of the slightest protection. It 
was penetrated, a baleful fire was lighted of the tar 
'eaih, the pine framework was reached ^a moment 
■md the enormous volume of fire shot imob- 
m'o the air. And all this was in menacing 
•ward the exposed line of Washington street, 
le at this period was of the wildest confu- 
rrowd was far greater on this more popu- 
the city than in the eastern section, 
•eet was apparently choked by it in every 
> the buildings that were burning;. Milk 
a solid mass of men and women. Summer 
1 . surging thousands who watched the flames 

O O 

arched to the decisive line on the western 
There was little rowdyism and no violence 
this, vast accumulation of people. Some of 
ave active efforts to aid in the rescue of prop- 
.rom danger; others forced horses and wagons 
eliicles drawn by hand through the almost solid 
x uares of people. The terrible spectacle imparted 
excitement to every one. The steady sound of the play 
of the valves in the engines; the hoarse shouts of the 
firemen; the roar of the gigantic volume of flame 
now in full possession of both sides of the street, and 


BOSTON. 


233 

running a rivalry in its advance on either hand; the 
crash of walls; the sharp crack of the solid granite 
as the intense heat split it into a thousand fragments; 
the clang of the iron pillars as they struck the stones 
among which they were thrown in one common 
heap of confusion; the constant explosion of gas from 
the melting metres,—all presented a scene of terrific 
grandeur. The question was involuntarily in the 
minds and on the lips of all men, u Where ‘is this to 
end?” 

The house-tops of the city were by this time occu¬ 
pied by the people. The City Hall roof was alive 
with them; they swarmed over the whole extent of 
the roof of the Parker House. As the flames would 
seem for moments to drive the great clouds of smoke 
into the upper part of the firmament, and flash out in 
unimpeded vividness, the whole city was illumined by 
their dazzling splendor, and the spectacle of its roofs 
thronged by those who had set themselves upon the 
outposts of observation was in itself one of singular 
effect. The view of the fire attained from these posi¬ 
tions was of the most magnificent character. Its en¬ 
tire area was beneath. Far into its interior of alter¬ 
nate blackness and lurid light the eye penetrated. 
The figure of the fiery lake was made a reality before 
the eyes. The billows upon its surface were tossed in 
maddened fury, and took new form with almost every 
moment. Its blood-red fire reached to the heavens, 
and was reproduced in reflection upon the over-arch¬ 
ing canopy. Nothing could exceed the awful mag : 
nificence of the scene. 

Amid it all, suddenly came a tremendous concussion 
in the air. This was the first evidence that the power 
of powder, which so many had sought to have invoked, 


234 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


had at last been brought to bear by those in authority. 
The people literally cheered as they gave it welcome. 
Buildings were seen to quiver a moment, and then to 
topple and fall in an indiscriminate mass of ruin before 
it. Others resisted altogether. Either from want of 
skill among those set to do the work of destruction, 
or from the inherent strength and solidity of the struc- 
tures upon which they operated, windows were blown 
out, ratters were agitated, but the walls stood firm. 
Those that did yield, it was soon found, to the dismay 
of the public, failed to afford the obstruction that had 
been hoped from them. The volunteers whom the 
city had, as it were, extemporized for this duty, were 
not competent to discharge it intelligently. The ex¬ 
plosions were started so close to the edge of the fire 
that there was a heroism in those who conducted them 
of which probably themselves were unconscious. It 
was most fortunate that, with so much powder in in¬ 
experienced hands, no more harm resulted from its 
use. The fire passed almost instantly into the gaps 
that were made, occupied them, and found added facil¬ 
ities for its appropriation in the splintered mass of 
woodwork that was thus placed in its path. It made 
a prey of this as quickly as if it had been put before 
it to speed the way. The explosions continued on 
this west wing, and rapid reports came simultaneously 
from the north. Good effects from them were nowhere 
seen. 

There was plainly, therefore, no hope from explo¬ 
sions on the Washington street side. The fire was 
fated to reach Washington street. It was already 
there, indeed. Nothing but the efforts of the fire de¬ 
partment could prevent its passing that barrier. Were 
they equal to the work? Men shook their heads in 


BOSTON. 


235 


the gravest doubt. The chances were all against 
them. In Franklin street, High street, Pearl street, 
Congress street, the department had failed. Could it 
hope to be more successful after the exhaustion of a 
long night’s battle, and with the narrowest avenue of 
all on which to make its stand ? Nine men out of ten 
had in tlieir hearts given up the contest. Nearly 
every store on Washington street fronting the threat¬ 
ened line had been cleared of its goods. The Common 
was studded with them in many acres of its extent, 
and every available team was carrying them to still 
remoter localities. Not on Washington street alone, 
but in the whole area up to Tremont street, the work 
of removal was going on. The inmates of the Parker 
House were warned out, and the City Hall was pre¬ 
pared for evacuation. The firemen set resolutely at 
work on the last line, which everybody recognized as 
their forlorn hope. A succession of engines was ranged 
all along it. The position was a terribly exposed one. 
They took it with undaunted courage. They saw the 
flames approach; they saw them break out right in 
their faces. They never flinched. The crowning 
honor of the night belongs to those men who stood 
against the threatening of the entire city’s destruction 
by this wall of fire. Personal danger came to them, 
as they knew it must. More than one of them yielded 
up his life before morning. But they held the ground. 
Hour after hour the battle went on. Walls toppled 
and fell. The highest of all stood, but they stood as 
a constant terror, and made the contest dangerous in 
its every moment. More than once the fronts of 
masonry fell clear across the street, and set the 
opposite buildings on fire. Men swarmed to the 
spot and extinguished them. For hours there was no 


236 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


moment that the west side was not burning in some or 
other of its parts. The firemen rested not till each 
new outbreak of the flames was extinguished. Before 
daylight came, the whole of the east side of Washing¬ 
ton street, from Summer street to Milk street, with 
the exception of a single store, had yielded to the 
flames. Not an inch beyond had they been permitted 
to pass in that direction. If the fire had burnt itself 
out on the eastern* section, in its western it was stopped, 
and stopped as effectually, by the efforts of men. 

As morning dawned, the conflagration was confined 
in its spread to its northern range. It had made from 
Washington street to the sea an open space; but its 
limits were defined, and there was no further apprehen¬ 
sion in these quarters. Passing to its southern edge 
on Washington street, the partially overthrown walls 
of Trinity church, with the solid tower standing up¬ 
right before them, marked the boundary of its ravages 
in that quarter. Northerly, the historic old South 
Church stood a sentinel of the limit which it had 
reached. Trinity was destroyed; but the old South 
was erect and unharmed. The buildings opposite it 
on Milk street had been blown up or burned. The 
flames had not even scorched this, the most ancient 
religious edifice of the city, that had stood and shel¬ 
tered worshipers even before the days of the Revolu¬ 
tion. The escape of the city in this region was owing, 
next to the almost superhuman efforts of the firemen, 
to the fact that the fire had passed out of the region 
of the Mansard roof and the six-story edifice as it 
reached Washington street. There were some build¬ 
ings of this class there, but the line was broken, and at 
intervals upon it were buildings not half the height 
of the stores in the wholesale business quarter. Re- 













BOSTON. 


239 


viewing the events of the night, remembering all pos¬ 
sible advantages possessed by the fire department, 
and giving .them the unbounded credit they deserve 
for their astonishing achievements, yet it seems as if 
there must have been some changes in atmospheric 
conditions to aid in the arrest of the fire. To those 
who saw the utter impotency of water as an extin¬ 
guisher in t' e lower portions of the city, it is nearly 
incredible that it should have proved so entirely 
effective later. 

And now attention was turned to the final conflict 
with the still raging monster at the north. Here his 
fury was in no wise abated. For a time in the earlier 
hours of morning it was hoped that his progress might 
be stayed in the two immense blocks that occupied 
the corners of Franklin and Federal streets. But 
Federal street was crossed to the east, while the first 
of these blocks still existed, and thus a new northern 
line of march was established. On the west, too, the 
fire passed them. They were enveloped on every side 
but one, and soon both were in flames, adding im¬ 
mensely to the terrible power of the conflagration. 
The call for powder originated and was most pressing 
here. It was hours before it was obtained. When it 
arrived upon the scene, the flames had spread to Milk 
street, and their column advancing northward was an 
eighth of a mile in length. They were right upon 
the unfinished Post-Office building, the largest single 
granite structure in the city, and with almost nothing 
inflammable about it. This was looked to with great 
hope, as a barrier that covered a large space for resist¬ 
ance. Fortunately the force subduing the fire at 
the westward was also at this time able to extend a 
wing that reached towards the Post-Office building, 


240 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


and, with granite blocks between, without the tinder- 
boxes upon their top, there was a much better pros¬ 
pect of success than Washington street had presented- 
There was, at all events, a temporary gain to be had. 

Lower down, abreast of the great blocks above re¬ 



ferred to, and the line of fire to the east of them, 
there was, however, not a particle of abatement in the 
fury of the flames. It was here that powder was most 
freely applied. One store after another was seen to 
quiver and disappear in a dense mass of the blackest 



































































































































































































































































































































BOSTON. 


241 


smoke, which cleared away only to show the confused 
form into which its materials had been thrown. Yet 
here again the explosions were all too near the fire, 
and it swept on unimpeded by them. But ere long, 
the firemen on Washington street having achieved 
their triumph, the engines in use by them were at 
liberty to be ranged in the northern quarter. Large 
numbers had come in from other cities also. The fire 
had been subdued, or exhausted itself for want of ma¬ 
terial, till there was but one line on which it was 
raging. To this all effort was now directed. The 
good effects of the Post-Office protection began also to 
be felt. On its western range the danger was becom¬ 
ing less and less. As morning neared, there was but 
one serious point of threatening—the line from Con¬ 
gress to Kilby street, which had passed Milk street, 
and was moving on to State street. The last efforts 
of the firemen, on this long and fearful night, were 
directed here. It was far from certain that the fire 
could be stopped. Where it burned fiercest, it was 
exactly in a line with the Merchants’ Exchange build¬ 
ing, another of the largest edifices of the city, which, 
once fully on fire, was quite likely to take the whole 
of State street with it. But there was a hopeful pros¬ 
pect that this building might be saved. If it was 
saved, the ravages of the flames were practically 
ended. 








CHAPTER XII. 

THE SCENE ON SUNDAY. 

The Fire Still Raging toward the North.—It Envelops Liberty Square.— 
Concentrates upon the Merchants’ Exchange.—The Last Stand Made 
at this Point.—A Terrible Contest.—Tremendous Struggle Between 
Opposing Elements.—The Fire Slowly Yields.—The Final Victory.— 
The Scene at Noonday.— Acres of Desolation.—The People Pour in 
from the Suburbs.—The Spectators from the Country round About.— 
The Intelligence Flashed through the Nation.—Excitement Every¬ 
where.—Flames still in all the Burnt Region.—The Police Precautions. 
—The Military Summoned.—A Strange Sabbath.—The Common Cov¬ 
ered with Merchandise Rescued from the Flames.—Night Fall.—Crowds 
Still Arriving, but Quiet Maintained.—A Night Explosion.—The Fire 
Renewed.—A New Danger, and Another Severe Struggle.—Great Addi- 
tional Loss, but further Immediate Danger Averted. 

HE sun rose on the Sunday that followed 
the scenes of the night that have been re¬ 
lated, with the fire wholly checked upon 
its eastern and western lines, and partially 
obstructed in its northern inarch by the 

V barrier which the new Post-Office building 
e . ° 

y had presented. In the course it had taken 

north on its easterly side, it had reached no further 

( 242 ) 

















BOSTON. 


243 


than the western line of stores on Oliver street. But 
on entering Milk street in its further progress it had 
diverged to the eastward again in a gradually increas¬ 
ing angle, thus making a passage directly around and 
completely enveloping the whole of Liberty Square. 
Beyond this its front became lessened in about the same 
ratio that it had assumed in increase since leaving 
Milk street, till in the middle of the forenoon it was 
confined in the narrowest compass to which it had been 
restricted since its first serious spreading of the pre¬ 
vious night. The last stand to be made against it was 
in Congress and Lindall streets. 

A solid front of engines, occupying every spot with 
which hose could be connected, was ranged here. 
Their effect was soon felt in the eastern and western 
wind’s. The fire advanced but a short distance on 

o 

either of these after nine o’clock in the morning. One 
point of serious danger, however, remained in the im¬ 
mense granite building known as the Merchants’ Ex¬ 
change. Here was the present location of the Post- 
Office and the Sub-Treasury, all the material of which 
had been already removed. The building contained a 
large reading-room also, and a spacious hall for the re¬ 
sort of the merchants of the city. Otherwise it was 
occupied with numerous offices of insurance compa¬ 
nies, banks, brokers, and other business of which State 
street was the center. The building was unfortunately 
situated for the purposes of its protection. Lindall 
street, on which was its rear, was scarcely more than 
wide enough for a single vehicle to pass through it, 
and high on either side towered the tallest buildings 
The fire made straight for this point, with all the vicious 
fury that it had exhibited in its worst stages. Every 
effort to stay it was futile. While it was being effect- 


244 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


ually controlled on both sides, here it had still its 
fullest sway. The flames entered and occupied the 
Merchants’ Exchange before the sun was three hours 
high. 

This intelligence, which was soon diffused over the 
city, reawakened the gravest apprehensions in the 
minds of the people. There had been comparative 
security felt, as the result of the success achieved on 
Washington street, and the stay of the conflagration 
by the new Post Office were most encouraging. But 
here, it was apparent to all, was a new point, from 
which fire might again spread, and occupy the terri¬ 
tory north for perhaps miles in extent. Let State 
street be crossed, and a region was entered almost as 
densely crowded with buildings as that adjoining 
Washington street, and beyond which an immense 
area of inflammable material stretched. So threaten¬ 
ing was this danger that the work of removal from 
the stores which were on its border was generally 
commenced. The whole city stood in a state of sus¬ 
pense as harrowing as any which had yet possessed 
it, to learn the result of the firemen’s efforts to stay 
' "the progress of the flames on this single point of the 
Merchants’ Exchange. In an hour nearly a third of 
the building was on fire. But the conflict with it 
was desperate and determined. Scores of streams of 
water were poured in without a moment’s cessation. 
The building was entered from the front, rear, and 
sides by the firemen. Regardless of the imminent 
danger that all the time threatened them, they 
flooded everything with the resisting element, until 
it seemed as if a river ran at their command. Yet 
the fire was still terrible in its force. It raged among 
the rafters; it occupied and ate up floors; heavy 


BOSTON. 


245 


beams parted and fell; solid pillars of iron writhed 
and succumbed to the monster that assailed them. 
But the granite walls stood firm, and amidst them the 
firemen stood in safety. For hours they battled, and 
it became at length evident that they were holding 
their antagonist at bay. They had arrested his 
onward march, and it was only left them to destroy 
the last life that was in him in this his final citadel. 
Taking heart from such encouragement, the good 
work was prosecuted with renewed will and energy. 
Belays of aid came to those who were exhausted; as 
one engine gave out, either from the continued strain 
upon its hose, or the protracted pressure upon its 
machinery, another was brought to the front to take 
its place. By eleven o’clock it was evident that the 
monster was yielding in his strength. Another hour 
followed, and the dying throes were upon him. At 
noon, the fire lay sullen and smouldering in the 
edifice that it had in earlier hours entered so furi¬ 
ously. The final victory was won. 

The state of suspense was not yet over. In the 
mad riot of the last twenty hours, men had lost faith 
in the stability of everything about them. The dread 
of the demon was still upon their minds. As they 
surveyed the still flaring flames over the territory 
that had been ravaged, and on every hand, in what 
had so lately been the pride of Boston, encountered 
lurid light contending with a heavy pall of smoke; 
as the grand glare of the mountains of coal burning 
upon the wharves met the vision from all points 
of the city, and with an atmosphere encompassing * 
them in which were the heat and the vapors that the 
night and the day had engendered, a feeling of safety 
was impossible. But they drew a long breath of 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


246 

relief at the overcoming of immediate terrors, and 
thanked God that a line had been established which 
bid fair to mark the limit of the fire. 

Then the full proportions of the calamity came to 
be for the first time definitely comprehended. The 
distinctive business of the city had been in one grand 
swoop swept out of all visible existence. Not a store 
of the wholesale shoe trade, with perhaps one jr two 
unknown and insignificant exceptions in remote quar¬ 
ters, was standing. In the wholesale dry-goods 
business, just one firm remained with a roof to shelter 
it. In the wholesale clothing trade, which Boston 
had originated, and which had been for years one of 
the most important specialties of its business, the 
same state of facts existed. The wool business was 
swept clean, as by the besom of destruction. Literally 
nothing remained o ’ those marts of trade which had 
given to the city its prominence in progress of later 
years. The loss of buildings and of property was 
alike appalling. The fire had singularly enclosed in 
its circle nearly everything that was of more modern 
construction and of the highest value, and had 
haul stopped on every hand, where more miscellaneous 
structures were reached. Boston, which had boasted 
the handsomest stores in the nation, a day earlier, 
was now bereft of nearly all this species of beauty. 
A street or two toward the water further north, and 
an exceptional building, now and then, in retail 
quarters, was all that was left her. 

People, by this time, had begun to pour by thou¬ 
sands into the city. The boundless volume of flame 
of the night previous had been seen from all quarters. 
For many miles out to sea it was visible. Sixty miles 
in the interior it came into view of the approaching 


BOSTON. 


247 


Boston and Albany train. From the heights of 
Worcester county it was watched through the night. 
To the north, in Essex and Middlesex, its baleful 
signal had reached. The people of New Hampshire 
had looked down upon it from their hills. Intelli¬ 
gence of it had also been spread to the remote 
western extremity of the continent, and had passed 
under the ocean to Europe. The. news was tele¬ 
graphed to New York and New Orleans, and received 
by crowds breathlessly excited, as each new bulletin 
was read to them, from those in the midst of the 
grand theatre of destruction. Chicago renewed her 
sensations of a year earlier, as the story was flashed 
to her, and extras were issued through her newspaper 
offices, at each hour of this sad Sunday. At St. Louis, 
Milwaukee, and St. Paul, where thousands of people 
lived who had emigrated, from the heart of New 
England, and were as familiar with the topography of 
Boston as with that of their own cities, the excitement 
was no less intense. It reached to the Pacific Coast, 
and met with a similar response in that region. 
“ Boston is burning! ” was in the mouths of millions, 
the nation over. 

The ravaged territory was a desert which no foot 
could yet enter. In every part it was still seething 
and smoking with intense heat. Men could only 
stand upon its borders, and survey the work of 
destruction wrought. They wandered aghast about 
its acres of desolation. Flames were still shooting up 
all over it from unconsumed debris of buildings, and 
at the points in which the gas-pipes had come in 
communication with the fire, streams were seen burn¬ 
ing on every hand. From severed lamp-posts, they 
would jet out in unimpeded volume, and at points, in 


248 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


cellars their steady blaze was continually recognized. 
As observed from a distance, the light was but par¬ 
tially lessened, and the smoke became more than ever 
grandly apparent. Throughout the day, and into the 
night, and even beyond the night, for fifty miles into 
the country, that awful beacon betokening destruction 
was watched. 

The police precautions, which had been hurriedly 
extemporized through the night, now began to be 
arranged upon system. The military forces of the 
city were all ordered under arms, and distributed as 
guards in every quarter. A requisition was made 
also upon those of neighboring cities. They had 
appeared none too early. To the credit of Boston, it 
should be recorded that almost no rowdyism, and 
little if any violent disregard of law, were exhibited 
through the—to her—unparalleled scenes of the 
night previous. There was petty thieving, of course. 
At a time when it was, perhaps, in the minds of 
many, only a question as to whether they should 
appropriate property or the flames should consume it, 
and where it was doubtful whether owners could be 
identified even if their goods were held for them, to 
escape pilfering was an impossibility. But the police 
were surprisingly efficient in suppressing such 
attempts. They carried score after score of men to 
the station-houses, making some mistakes, it is prob¬ 
able, but rescuing, on the whole, a great amount of 
value. 

The aid of the military, however, was most timely. 
The city was in greater danger of theft on Sunday 
after the fire than before it was stayed. Goods were 
exposed in all its squares and streets. Aside from 
those that had been saved from the territory con- 



THE ARREST OF THIEVES, ROUGHS, AND PLUNDERERS. 






















































BOSTON. 


251 


sumed, immense stocks had been moved from stores 
all about it. The Common looked like the great fair 
of Novgorod, without its tents. All conceivable 
descriptions of merchandise were deposited upon it, and 
everything was of necessity in the state of confusion 
incident to its hurried removal from the places of 
supposed danger. Every accessible street had been 
visited, and received books, papers, bundles, or mer¬ 
chandise. The whole population was either utterly 
worn out by its efforts of the previous night, or 
wrought into a state of excitement which interfered 
with systematic effort. The city was a fruitful field 
for pillage. 

Two of the churches of the city had succumbed to 
the flames. A third was made, for the second time in 
its history, a barrack-house for soldiery. The usual 
attendants upon other places of worship were either 
sufferers by the fire, or were actively offering sym¬ 
pathy and shelter to their brethren whom it had 
visited. Boston almost forgot that it was the Sabbath. 
The congregations that assembled were chiefly con¬ 
fined to women. The men who were not too ex¬ 
hausted to leave their beds were all in the streets. 
No such scene had been witnessed in the city before 
in its history. The nearest approach to it was the 
memorable Sabbath that followed the firing upon 
Fort Sumter. The drums again beat through the 
streets, and files of soldiers marched to their positions 
in the range of the fire, and in the dangerous locali¬ 
ties elsewhere. 

So the afternoon wore on, and night set in upon 
the city. As the darkness gathered, it brought out 
the red light of the flames again with added vividness. 
Manv an anxious eye watched them from the country 

15 


252 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


about, with a fearful foreboding that the end was not 
yet reached. Confidence strengthened, however, in 
the city itself, with each advancing hour. Crowds 
remained about the fire, and new crowds were enter¬ 
ing by the night trains as they arrived; but the 
military maintained effective control, and everything 
presented an encouraging aspect for the continuance 
of protection against the increase of calamity. 

In the midst of this, and just at the hour of mid¬ 
night, the vicinity of Summer street at its junction 
with Washington street was startled by a loud explo¬ 
sion. An immediate alarm of fire rang out upon the 
night. It was found that the gas connected with one 
of the upper Summer street stores, which had escaped 
the fire, but was abandoned, had at last been brought 
in communication with fire, and had exploded, carry¬ 
ing away the whole front walls of the building, and 
lighting anew the flames of its vicinity. These 
quickly spread, and were not stayed till they had 
consumed the magnificent block adjoining, in which 
was a large amount of valuable jewelry, and in its 
upper stories artists’ rooms and various offices in 
which much destruction was wrought. The loss here 
was very great. The alarm brought new terror to 
the hearts of the populace, who recognized it as in 
one of the points of the district in which apprehen¬ 
sion was most serious, and where its extension was 
most likely to create another fire of large proportions. 
The danger of this was imminent for a considerable 
time. The two largest retail dry-goods* stores of 
Boston were immediately adjoining. Only by the 
utmost effort were they saved. The exertions of the 
fire department alone would not have probably been 
equal to this work. The covering of the roofs of the 


BOSTON. 


253 


dry-goods stores with blankets taken from their 
stocks, which were kept deluged with water, was the 
agency that chiefly accomplished the work. In an 
hour or two all danger from this supplementary fire 
had passed. 



DUTY TRUMPET. 













CHAPTER XIII. 

THE ASPECT ON MONDAY. 

The Last of the Conflagration.—Crowds from the Country.—The City as 
if Besieged, and in Military Occupation.—The One Avenue North and 
South Choked with Travel.—Throngs without Precedent.—The Busi¬ 
ness Men Alert Among 'I hem.—The Curiosity-Seekers Preponderate. 

_'Phe Dangerous Classes Arrive from New York.—Preparations to 

Protect Against Them.—The Common Fast Cleared of Goods.—• 
Activity in° the Burnt District.—Signs Set Up, and Excavations Com¬ 
menced.— A New Experience Comes with Nightfall.—The Gas Gives 
Out.—The City in Darkness.—Queer Substitutes.—Theatres and 
Public Places Closed.—The Dread bf Crime in the Darkness.—Police 
Precautions.—The Night Passed in Safety. 


ONDAY morning opened with the sense 
of security amounting almost to a convic¬ 
tion that the fire was fully controlled. It 
was so far, indeed, suppressed through 
most of its area that the burnt region 
was in a condition to be traversed, the 
only danger remaining being that from the half-top¬ 
pling fragments of walls of stores that stood all over 
it. The devastated tract was still smoking and steam¬ 
ing; frequently it would blaze out in exceptional 
quarters; the coal mounds at the water’s edge were 

( 254 ) 




BOSTON. 


255 


yet unchecked in the process of combustion, and their 
light continued to be seen for many miles away; the 
heavy pall of black vapor hung in heaven above the 
scene, before it passed in a continuous, well-defined 
body to the westward, and enshrouding everything as 
it rose from* the ruins. This, and the immense mass 
of debris which appeared everywhere, were the chief 
features of the morning aspect of the fire, on the sec¬ 
ond day after it had settled upon the city. 

And now the streets began to fill with people as 
they were never filled before. For thirty, forty, and 
fifty miles about, the population pressed into Boston. 
Scores, if not hundreds of 
thousands were added to 
those who • moved in its 
streets. If the crowds had 
been embarrassing the dav 
before, they fairly suspend¬ 
ed locomotion in many lo¬ 
calities now. Ever}-thing 
was in an abnormal state. 

The aspect was that of war 
times. It required little 
stretch of the imagination 
to make the city seem as 
if the victim of a bombard¬ 
ment in the quarter that 
the fire had visited. The 

ragged and roughly de- L00 king at the ruins. 
fined fragments of walls 

looked almost precisely as if cannon had torn through 
them, or shells had exploded in their midst. A sicken¬ 
ing smell pervaded the lines of the region. Sounds 
of drum and fife came constantly upon the ear. A 




























































256 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


full band of music, escorting a regiment of soldiers, 
was heard in its march up State street. Uniforms 
were everywhere. Bayonets glistened; the word of 
command rung out; lines were drawn beyond which 
passing was forbidden. Martial law was practically 
proclaimed. • 

At least three-quarters of the travel of Boston is 
north and south, and nearly the whole of this passes 
north of the Common. The morning found every 
avenue through which it moved, with the exception of 
Tremont street, closed. The fire had occupied all but 
Washington street, and the danger from the threaten¬ 
ing walls on this avenue made it necessary that it 
should be shut up also. Everything, therefore, was 
crowded into Tremont street. Tremont street, as the 
result, was one solid mass of pedestrians and of vehicles. 
How the crowds met and passed each other is a mys¬ 
tery. How they managed to retain their good-nature 
and escape from accidents, is a still greater one. Bos¬ 
ton had never seen such a spectacle before. The 
nearest approach to it probably witnessed anywhere is 
in the crowding of some of the bridges of Chicago at 
the busiest parts of the day, and when one railroad 
transfers its freight to another. All day long this 
dense mass of men and horses surged and struggled. 
Every new train of cars that came into the city brought 
accessions. Business had been abandoned in the 
regions round about. The people had watched, all 
through the previous day, the signal of destruction 
that illumined the heavens, and they came at the 
earliest moment to visit the site of a conflagration the 
magnitude of which had startled the world. Without 
them, the city would have had occupants enough to 
crowd her streets as they are seldom put to the test. 


MILITARY FORCING BACK TIIE CROWD IN LIBERTY STREET. 


























































































































































BOSTON. 


259 

With them, the scene was one of novelty, animation, 
and excitement, such as few localities of the nation 
have ever witnessed. 

Every business man of Boston who had been burnt 
out was on his feet, moving actively to the scene of 
disaster, or engaged in efforts to secure a spot for the 
re-establishment of what was left of his old stock in 
trade, or a re-opening with a new one. The city was 
scoured by thousands of these, and the friends who 
were aiding them, in all quarters that the fire had not 
reached. They were identified by their nervous, 
anxious manners; their set lips; their unmindfulness 
of everything in the general novelty of the situation; 
their apparent concentration of thought upon a single 
purpose. The only interruption to this was in the re¬ 
cognition of friends or acquaintances in the streets, 
which would bring a brief pause, a hurried comparison 
of losses, perhaps a condensed and curt comment upon 
the probabilities of the future. They would press on, 
after this, with more of absorption in the purpose before 
them than ever. If an idler, or a listless and leisurely 
gazer about, were met, it was entirely safe to set him 
down as other than a Boston man. The country came 
in from curiosity. Its representatives drank their fill 
of gratification from the singularity of the spectacle. 
They were a stumbling block to those whose personal 
loss©£ and anxieties gave them no time and no dispo¬ 
sition to think of anything else; yet these last, if their 
minds were for the moment disturbed by the obstacles 
which the crowds created, were too intent upon graver 
matters to be seriously conscious of a vexation that was 
only a trifling incident at the beginning of the hard 
battle that was before them. Their one thought was 
to press on to the retrieval of their fortunes. They 


260 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


had not even had time as yet to ascertain or analyze 
the proportions of the calamity that had come to them. 
They only knew that it was- a visitation amazing be¬ 
yond what their most extreme forebodings had ever 
pictured as possible. They must fight it, or sink 
utterly. With this alternative, not a man in a hundred 
faltered. This class was everywhere in the crowds, 
and there was no difficulty in identifying those that 
composed it. 

The idle and the curious greatly outnumbered it. 
In their ranks were hardly less than a hundred 
thousand, and there may • have been double that 
amount. A large part of it was made up of women, 
who were liable to rudeness and jolting enough to de¬ 
ter and disgust them, but who pressed on with the rest 
all through the day*. The objective point of these 
masses was the burnt district. They encompassed it 
on all its borders. They shouldered each other out of 
the way, and crowded to the extreme front to get the 
nearest possible view. They sorely tried the patience 
of the guards, and kept them in continual activity, 
from their importunities to be allowed to pass further, 
or their efforts to get surreptitiously by the lines. 
Not content with the danger of being overrun by 
teams in the streets and at the crossings, they begged 
to be allowed to dare the terrors of tottering masonry 
that their desire to have the fullest privileges of sight¬ 
seeing might be gratified. With this purpose and hope, 
they pervaded the streets till night had taken posses¬ 
sion of the same, and long after. 

There were others present from abroad whose arrival 
was viewed with much less complacency. Early in 
the morning it was announced that New York had 
discharged upon Boston scores of the vilest, most 


BOSTON. 


261 


brutal, and knavish of the residents of the slums of 
the greater metropolis. They came by the night train 
on Sunday. Violence and outrage had marked every 
stage of their passage, and the superintendent of the 
railroad over which they rode declared that it was the 
worst freight his cars had ever carried. The object of 
the coming of these was apparent. They sought for 
plunder. If they secured it by petty theft, it was the 
least dangerous form their incursion was likely to take. 
There began to be a dread of violence, and a nervous 
aj)prehension of new burnings at the hands of these 
men was in the minds of the people. Fortunately, 
the military were in ample force to protect the burnt 
district, and to render aid elsewhere if it should prove 
to be needed. Immediate measures were taken, too, 
to increase the force of special police still further. 
The citizens formed organizations and night patrols, to 
co-operate with the authorities in precautions for pro¬ 
tection. As the day wore on little accession of crime 
was reported, and no new terrors beyond those of the 
imagination were encountered in this the most de¬ 
pressing period of all. 

Meantime, all day long, the work of the restoring, in 
greater or less degree, of order out of confusion, was 
industriously prosecuted. Three-quarters of the teams 
which formed solid processions in the streets from day¬ 
light till dark were laden with goods on their way to 
be returned to stores from which they had been taken, 
or transported to their new places of destination. The 
mammoth bazaar on the Common was visited con¬ 
stantly, and before night its accumulations of the day 
previous had been sensibly lessened. Every horse in 
the city was in requisition. As the never-ending line, 
which maintained its continuity for twelve or fourteen 


262 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


hours, was witnessed, the question involuntarily arose, 
Is this the city in which we were told, less than forty- 
eight hours before, that there were not horses enough 
available to drag some twenty engines to the fire ? 
But there was no time for reproaches as yet. The 
people could only pause to think of the means for the 
resuscitation of business. Some of them had hardly 
reached even that stage, and were fully occupied in 
breasting immediate obstacles. Before nightfall, how¬ 
ever, most of the goods were removed from outdoor 
exposure, and there only remained to restore them 
from the confusion which had accompanied their dis¬ 
turbance on the night of the fire. 

Many passes had been issued to those desiring to 
enter the burnt district, during the day. Merchants 
had obtained access to the sites of their stores, when 
these could be found, which, in the indescribable con¬ 
fusion into which everything was thrown, was often 
impossible. They had estimated, and in some cases 
ascertained, the position of their safes, and taken the 
earliest means to restore them from the heat of the 
fire, which was every hour more dangerous to their 
contents. Painted boards began to be introduced 
largely by the time afternoon was reached, testifying 
to the success that had rewarded the activitv of busi- 
ness men in engaging new quarters for themselves or 
the rehabilitation of their trade. Before nightfall, the 
region was dotted all over with them. The workmen 
had begun the work of clearing the streets also. A 
thousand at once entered upon this labor. It was a 
formidable one in its proportions. The buildings had 
almost invariably fallen outward, and the heaps of de¬ 
bris were so nearly uniform over its surface that a line 
could apparently be cut through it as well at one point 
as at another. 


BOSTON. 


263 


There was a better feeling as the day ended than at 
its beginning. Nobody doubted in the morning the 
courage of the people, and most people had confidence 
in their capacity to re¬ 
trieve their fortunes. But, 
in the outset, their own re¬ 
sources, and the resources 
of the city, were not defi¬ 
nitely ascertained. There 
was strong hope and large 
self-reliance, but the field 
of results was necessarily 
a field of experiment. 

' Enough was already ac¬ 
complished now to indi¬ 
cate plainly what the fu- 
ure was to bring forth. 

Theworst had been passed. 

But when night actually 
came, it brought with it 
still another experience. 

The streets of the city boston pluck. 

were found to be in dark¬ 
ness. The gas-works had failed of their supply. 
Not a street lamp was lighted; only now and then 
a store-window threw its friendly gleam upon the side¬ 
walk to light the passers-by, and this so feebly that 
it hardly served a better purpose than to make the 
darkness elsewhere visible. At an early stage of the 
progress of the fire fears began to be entertained, on 
the part of the Boston Gas-Light Company, of acci¬ 
dents resulting from the escape of gas in the burning 
buildings, but the means whereby these could be pre¬ 
vented without turning off the total gas supply of the 























264 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


city were lacking, the valves and siphon boxes regu¬ 
lating the supply in the burning district being ren¬ 
dered inaccessible by the fire itself. To shut off all 
the gas from the city was out of the question, as the 
company did not feel willing to assume the responsi¬ 
bility of such a measure without authority. They 
felt that serious inconvenience, if not danger, might 
be the result, which would more than counterbalance 
the ri>k incurred by neglecting so to do. The conse¬ 
quence was, as has been before stated, that in many 
of the ruined buildings the large supply pipes became 
opened by the falling material, and the gas ignited, 
burning in some cases for many hours. It was deemed 
inexpedient or impossible to extinguish them. The 
explosion soon after midnight on the previous evening, 
and the first outbreak of the fire that followed, had 
given impressive warning of the danger. A million 
and a half feet of gas, of the value of thirty-five hun¬ 
dred dollars, had been thus wasted. Soon after, the 
company received instruction from the authorities of 
the city to shut off the gas, and this was at once done. 
Sufficient gas, however, remained in the pipes to fur¬ 
nish a supply to many burners, especially those in ele¬ 
vated places, many persons continuing to burn their 
. gas for the greater part of the night. Early Monday 
morning the company took measures to allow the gas 
to be shut off from the burnt district, while still fur¬ 
nishing it to the rest of the city. The various valves 
and siphon boxes were properly adjusted, and in many 
cases the pipes were cut and plugged. It was thought 
that this work was so complete as to warrant the letting 
on of the gas again, and this was accordingly done in 
the afternoon. Numerous explosions followed in 
various parts of the city. It was evident that all was 





RUINS OF TRINITY OIITJROTI, SUMMER STREET. 





































































































































































































































































































































































































* 
















































I 












































BOSTON. 


267 


not yet made safe. There was no alternative but the 
depriving the city of its gas supply altogether. To 
meet the emergency, the primitive methods of illu¬ 
mination were brought into general requisition. Can¬ 
dle and kerosene dealers plied a brisk trade after the 
announcement of the condition of affairs had been 
made. It may be interesting to know the cause of 
these explosions. The large supply pipes had first 
become broken by the falling of the building, or in* 
some cases were melted asunder, allowing the gas to 
escape. In many cases the escape was made into a con¬ 
fined place, as a cellar covered with debris , and being 
unable to find vent elsewhere, yet forced by the ex¬ 
pansive power of the heat and the constant pressure 
from the mains, it made its way into the sewers and 
other underground openings, and, combining with 
the requisite proportion of air to form a powerful ex¬ 
plosive mixture, the slightest spark brought into con¬ 
tact with it was sufficient for its ignition. A mixture 
of eight parts of air furnishes the condition most 
favorable to explosion. The danger was thus made 
imminent on every hand. 

There w r as a combination of the ludicrous and the 
threatening in the scene presented by the city, after 
darkness had set in. Most people had no appliances 
for the burning of oils, and the kerosene variety was 
as much a terror to the majority as would have been 
the use of gas with all they now knew of its perils. 
A rush was made to the stores for candles. A “ cor¬ 
ner ” in the commodity was almost instantly created. 
Candlesticks were not in existence to a hundredth 
part of the necessity for them. They had to be ex¬ 
temporized from all available objects. Eooms were 
lined with junk bottles, each holding its illuminator. 


2G8 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Bushels of turnips were bought up, holes cut in them, 
and candles thus supported distributed in all parts of 
houses. With everything that could be pressed into 
the service, nearly everywhere it was still dark and 
doleful in contrast with the facilities of other days. 
The theatres were all compelled to close. Public 
meetings were adjourned. ^ Concerts and lectures 
could not be given. The general darkness increased 
the dread of crime, as a natural consequence of the 
new facilities that were thus furnished it. When peo¬ 
ple recovered from the sense of novelty of the thing, 
and the fun of providing for its remedy had become 
a little worn, they began to think of the danger. 
New precautions were taken in the securing of houses 
and the guarding of neighborhoods. The fact that 
little crime had been reported was re-assuring. Yet 
the air was alive with stories of the reckless and mis¬ 
chievous men in the city, and the purpose which 
brought them there. It was hard to tell what they 
might do. Had the fact of the careful watch that had 
been set upon them been as generally circulated as 
that of their arrival, there would have been much less 
a feeling of concern. Never was a raid more unsuc¬ 
cessful than that of those intent on arson or burglary 
who came from New York to Boston. The fellows 
concerned in it took almost nothing for their pains, and 
a day later the city was nearly cleared of them. Bos¬ 
ton was orderly to a degree that redounded very 
greatly to her credit. Darkness followed devastation, 
and still she preserved her police arrangements in a 
state of efficiency, and the property of her people was 
as well protected as if the city had not been subject 
to a convulsion severe enough to have brought affairs 
to the verge of chaos. 


BOSTON. 


269 

The night passed without accident or threatening 
occurrence. The general darkness elsewhere brought 
out picturesquely the still unquenched flames in por¬ 
tions of the burnt district. These furnished camp-fires 
to the guards that occupied the territory. The streets 
of the city were generally deserted by all who had 
not business in them. Those that remained, as mid¬ 
night approached, were closely questioned by the 
patrols on duty. Every one who could not give a 
satisfactory account of himself was liable to arrest. 
There was little inducement to men without an object 
to be about. The city was so dark that almost all 
felt themselves in more or less danger. By twelve 
o’clock a silence prevailed that was only broken by the 
sounds of the movements of the police and the mili¬ 
tary till the early hours of morning. 










CHAPTER XIV. 

AMONG THE RUINS. 

Entering their Borders.—An Impressive Contrast.—Baffled Curiosity- 
Seekers —The First View of Desolation.—Eccentric Aspect.—The 
Heart of the Fire.—Delving in the Debris.—An Awful Atmosphere.— 
A Lurid Light upon the Scene.—The Flames on the Borders.—Effect 
on the Imagination.—Depressing Sensations.—The Belief on Leaving 
the Territory.—The Silver Lining to the Cloud. 

T early visit to the ruined quarter afforded 
a view of a scene the desolation of which 
has been seldom, if ever, exceeded. On 
approaching it, the contrast of the crowds 
who thronged the streets about, eagerly 
prying into its recesses, with the deserted 
dreariness of what was beyond, forcibly impressed the 
spectator. In some places clouds of rising smoke and 
steam gave proof that the heat was yet powerful with¬ 
in its borders. The view was frequently impeded, so 
that it was difficult to discern objects closely for more 
than a rod or two. In others, it appeared as if the fire 
had exhausted itself entirely, and the eye could reach 

for a long distance. Still the entrance upon the district 

.( 270 ) 




TFIE LIBERTY POLE AND FIREMEN’S ENCAMPMENT IN FRANKLIN SQUARE 


















































































































































































































































































































BOSTON. 


273 

was accompanied by peril. The points which were 
really safe were exceptional; and, though the crowd 
surged against the Hues, and each new arrival seemed 
to increase importunities to the officers to be allowed 
to pass, few were admitted. Passes had been some¬ 
what promiscuously issued at first, in apparent unap¬ 
preciation of the dangerous character of many of 
the ruins. They were now greatly more restricted. 

After entrance had been effected, the first obstacle 
encountered was in the difficulty of walking among the 
ruins. On every hand there stretched one unbroken 
series of heaps of bricks and of stone. There was a 
singular uniformity in the manner in which these occu¬ 
pied the ground. The streets were utterly obliterated. 
It was impossible in most places to ascertain whether 
one was in the center of a store foundation,' or facing 
its front, or skirting its rear. But no mound of debris 
reached beyond a certain height. There were few 
elevations to scale or to pass around. Everywhere 
were slight formations only above the average level. 
A keen eye and a sure foot, however, were required. 
No step was taken but was over irregularities of sur¬ 
face, caused by a thousand angles in a heap of bricks, 
or a pile of fractured blocks of granite heaved into all 
sorts of eccentric attitudes. The precaution of gazing 
warily upon every side was soon found to be essential. 
Not a moment was safe without it. Though the great 
mass of everything was tumbled together, in a large 
proportion of the buildings some portions of the v ails 
were yet erect. The fire had been capucious m v hat 
it had taken, and what it had left. Here was a store 
leveled to its basement; another appeared with a 
part of its front standing; another still with nearly 

the whole of its back or one of its sides. Now one 

16 


274 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


was met which went over and left one stay, and per¬ 
haps part of another; the next instant a stupendous 
spared fragment reared itself fifty feet into the air. 
There was danger on every hand, but a cool and care¬ 
ful head could easily avoid it. The essential thing 
was to keep out of the range of what appeared to 
threaten. 

A short distance further, and the spot is reached 
where the fire did some of its hottest work. Steam 

and smoke are still more 
abundant here. The ob- 
L- server is shut out from the 
sight of everything not in 
J his immediate vicinity, and 
|1 has time to take in the fea¬ 
tures more in detail. And 
such a spectacle as is com¬ 
prehended in them! De¬ 
struction and desolation 
never were more drearily 
presented. Piles of every¬ 
thing that had given sym¬ 
metry to the streets, orna¬ 
ments to the edifices upon 
them, or usefulness to the 
work carried on in their in¬ 
teriors, piled together in 
apparently inextricable confusion. Iron columns, bro¬ 
ken, bent or twisted; hammered granite, with the re¬ 
mains of adornment still upon it; gas-pipes twisted into 
shapeless torture, as if they had been transformed to ser¬ 
pents, and writhed in the agonies of their burning; tele¬ 
graph wires intertwisted in the universal medley; 
skeletons of everything of metallic nature strewed 





AFTER THE STRUGGLE. 


































































































OPENING SAFES—THE BOOKS ALL RTGIIT. 


















































































































































































































































































































































BOSTON. 


277 


about; and, as the basis of this intermixing, an all-per¬ 
vading pile of demolished masonry, that, failing to 
cover, only makes more discouraging the aspect of the 
debris with which it is confusedly compounded. The 
sight is depressing enough in itself to sink the stoutest 
spirits. The hot and heavy air adds physical discom¬ 
fort to the thought that overcomes the mind. The 
firemen are still laboring here. The operatives who 
are in search of the spots on which safes have fallen 
have found them in several instances, and are begin¬ 
ning the work of extrication. As the gaze is turned 
a short distance to the right, a group of this character 
is seen Swart, grimy, covered with all the blackening 
material they encounter in their labor, and accompanied 
by an additional atmosphere which they create by their 
own disturbance, there is a savage aspect to the scene 
which reminds one of the effects realized in the com¬ 
positions of some of the earlier painters. 

This scene is constantly repeated, as the remainder 
of the ruins are visited. There is a sad sameness 
pervading them all. As the vicinity of Federal, of 
Congress, and of Pearl streets is reached, the odor 
becomes more positive, and suggests strongly the 
materials that have occupied the stores visited by the 
fire. The heavy bales of wool in many cases are yet 
unconsumed. They smoulder and send up the dens¬ 
est clouds of smoke yet seen. Their stench is dis¬ 
gusting. The firemen play upon the huge heaps 
which the bricks have partially covered, and make, 
it is thought, considerable impression. There is hope 
that much may be saved here. We pass on to the 
leather quarter. In this too the air is laden with the 
peculiar scent of the burning material, that not even 
the terrible heat of the night, and the continued com- 


278 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


bustion of thirty-six hours later, have reduced to 
ashes. A bewildering sensation overcomes the mind. 
Smoke and vapor are denser than ever. The light of 
the sun is obscured. As the orb is seen through this 
medium, its color is blood red, and a lurid glare is 
diffused all around. By the direction from which this 
comes we are enabled again to ascertain our bearings. 
To the south and east, too, another light furnishes a 
beacon. It comes from the still blazing heaps of coal, 
from which fire is emitted in one continuous magnifi¬ 
cent volume. Though a quarter of a mile off, one 
almost imagines their heat upon him, or perhaps for a 
moment he is impressed with the idea that they form 
the crater of a volcano, that has vomited forth this 
conglomeration of masonry that covers the surface 
universally. The fancy is but momentary. The scene 
is in Congress street, the very spot on which the 
flames were beheld but a day and a night earlier as 
they rushed with all-devouring fury. The blackened, 
unsightly, shapeless pile on which the beholder stands 
was two days ago the most perfect production of 
architectural strength and beauty which the capacity 
of man had evoked from the solid stone of New Ensr- 

o 

land. Or, perhaps the spot is in Pearl street, whose 
superb array of solidity went down in one fell swoop, 
as it were, nearly every store being simultaneously on 
fire, and the whole street reduced in one hour’s time to 
what it now is. To distinguish certainly is impossible, 
amid the woful monotony of destruction. Never, 
since the fire first started, has the consciousness of its 
calamity so weighed upon the mind. The continuance 
upon its theater becomes insupportable. The impulse 
to be away from its terrors will not be resisted. 

So the return path is entered upon, and the task of 


BOSTON. 


279 


threading the way out of this spectacle of dire destruc¬ 
tion is taken up. Nothing relieves the utter weari¬ 
ness of the aspect as progress is made. The same 
mournful monotony is continued. Ragged outlines are 
all about. Walls impend 
overhead everywhere. 

Looking' up two stories, 
the marvel of a heavy safe, 
supported only by the frag¬ 
ment that is left in one cor- 
ner of a building, is seen; 
a wooden door with a panel ; 
of glass in a perfect state \ j 
of preservation creates y 
still more wonder in an- ifj- ( 
other. Yet the exceptions 
are scarcely enough to be 
noted, and not at all suffi¬ 
cient to engage further cu¬ 
riosity. The all-absorbing 
desire is to get among men 
again, and to escape from 
this nightmare of destruc¬ 
tion. As the street is reached, the guards are passed, 
and the sounds of bustle and activity, and the sights 
of earnestness are seen on every hand, a long breath 
of relief is drawn. Thank God that all is not lost! 
—that, however heavy the calamity, it has its com¬ 
pensation in the hopeful hearts and strong arms that 
are spared to meet it! 

Gratitude comes anew to the heart, also, in this con- . 
nection, in reflecting that the scenes just visited 
brought with them so slight a devastation of homes 
and hearth-stones. Sickening as were the sights, there 



SELLING RELICS. 






























































280 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


was nothing among them that indicated especial indi¬ 
vidual suffering. The loss was almost entirely con¬ 
fined to merchandise and the structures erected for 
its sale or storage. Few of the very poor were reached 
directly by it, and those few had already been pro¬ 
vided for. Capital was annihilated; enterprise was 
dealt a cruel blow; but the courage and the capacity 
were left in most cases, and the same resolute applica¬ 
tion might at least be hoped to bring retrieval of for¬ 
tunes. Emerging from gloom and solitude into streets 
thronged with those in whose faces were resolution 
and hope, the silver lining of the cloud was found^ 
and the dreary detour ended in not altogether unre¬ 
lieved despondency. 





♦ 


















CHAPTER XY. 


THE LOSSES AND THE INSURANCE. 

Estimates of Losses.—Mistakes and Exaggerations.—The Wealth in the 
Burnt District.-— T he City Assessors' Statement of Its Taxable 
Property, etc.—Proportion of Losses Borne by the Real Estate Owners 
and Merchants.—The Merchants Much the Severest Sufferers.—Their 
Entire Property Generally in their Business.—The Loss of Insurance 
the Finishing Blow.—Cases of Hardship.—The Winter Season 
Approaching.—Obstacles to Rebuilding.—Clerks and Operatives Thrown 
Out of Employment.—The Insurance Companies.—Their Remarkable 
Prosperity, and the Confidence Induced by It.—Their Complete Wreck 
from the Results of the Fire.—Losses to Stockholders.—Ruin to 
Merchants.—The Legislature Appealed to.—A New Law Devised.— 
Home Companies at a Discount in Popular Favor.—The Mutual Com¬ 
panies Mostly Pay in Full by Assessing on Premium Notes.—General 
Aggregate of Insurance Losses.—Percentages Paid in Home Offices. 


S the people of the city beheld the previ¬ 
ously unestimated and untold amount of 
property that was upon the burnt region 
destroyed before their eyes, the faculties of 
computation staggered in endeavoring to 
define the extent of the loss. Everything, 
at first, was conjecture. Conjecture, as may be 
supposed, was wild in some of its estimates. The 
space covered by the fire was exaggerated very much 
in the early statements. In several instances it was 
set at a hundred acres. Cooler calculation brought it 

( 281 ) 



FIGHTING FIRE. 


282 

down to sixty acres. Exact computation, -in the end, 
reduced it to a trifle less than sixty. There were still 
those who believed that the amount of injury inflicted 
was greater than that at Chicago, a year previous. 
These reasoned from the remarkable value of the stores 
and the stocks in this particular locality. Boston was 
known to be one of the richest of cities. She was now 
burnt out in an area which comprised more of her 
wealth than did double the same space anywhere else. 
In the outset of estimating, the buildings were, as a 
whole, much the most costly within her limits. It was 
a singular fact that the entire territory was covered 
with the newest and most substantial of her stores. 
The fire seemed to have spread itself till it had encom¬ 
passed almost the last one of them. The only excep¬ 
tions were in the vicinity of the new Post Office, which 
was near the spot on which it at last either spent it¬ 
self or was resisted successfully. The number of the 
stores was enormous, also, in proportion to the terri¬ 
tory, and in connection with the narrow streets and 
their crowded condition, the height of the structures 
was such that it had piled the utmost amount of value 
that could be compressed within the given limits. 
Add to this the immense stores of merchandise that 
had accumulated in the interior of all these structures, 
and it is no wonder that the grand aggregate should 
have been placed at the highest figures mentioned. 

The first estimates made fixed this at about one hun¬ 
dred and fifty millions of dollars. Some were led into 
more extravagant estimates even than this. The bet¬ 
ter judgment seemed to be to lessen it materially. It 
was not long before data was furnished on which a 
much more reliable calculation could be made. The 
Assessors’ books at the City Hall were examined, and 


BOSTON. 


283 


from these the Chairman of the Board of Assessors 
presented a statement, which was given to the public. 
The computations made by this test were as follows: 


The total valuation of Ward 5, part 2, (that is, that part of the ward that 
lies north of Summer street, east of Washington street, and south of 
Milk street,) for real estate is $37,650,000. Assume this amount to 
be the valuation of the burnt district in this ward, which is an over¬ 
statement ; as the value of the estates that escaped the fire in the sec¬ 
ond part of this ward considerably exceed the value of those south of 
Summer street which were destroyed. The value of the buildings in 
this district is, as nearly as may be, one-third of the value of the es¬ 
tates. This would put the value of the buildings destroyed in Ward 5 
at ------ - $12,500,000 

The assessed valuation of the personal property of Ward 5, 
part 2, is $40,781,000—which, assume as the value of 
the personal property of that part of the ward swept by 
the fire, which is ugain an overestimate, as the personal 
property destroyed south of Summer street is more than 
offset by that remaining unconsumed in the vicinity of 
Broad, Purchase, and India streets. This gives as the 
value of the personal property of residents or firms doing 
business in the district, ----- 40,781,000 

Add for the personal property of persons doing business in 
the district, but who having no partners are assessed in 
the wards of the city where they reside—say - - 8,000,000 

Add for goods consigned for sale, not assessable in Boston, 
being taxable to the consignor in the place of his resi¬ 
dence, and for household goods exempt by law, say - 12,000,000 

This puts the total estimated value of the property destroyed 

in ward 5, at - - - - - 71,281,000 


Add for buildings destroyed in Ward 4 (viz. 

north of Milk street) - - - 

Add for the personal property of this ward, 
computed as above, - 

Add also for the fact that at this season of the 
year the stocks held by our merchants are 
considerably above the average ; for this 
allow, say - - - - 

Deduct amount of goods saved, say 


$1,600,000 - 
3,100,000 

- 4,700,000 


12,000,000 

2,000,000 

- 10 , 000,000 


Estimated total loss, say, $85,000,000. 


$85,981,000 





284 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


This was an intelligent approximation, and put at 
rest altogether the random guesses that had been so 
prevalent. In some respects, it was quite nearly ac¬ 
curate. The Assessors’ valuations in Boston are care¬ 
fully made every year, and the increase in value is 
noted in each recurring spring month. The habit had 
been, too, to estimate real estate at nearly the amount 
for which it would sell in the market. This plan had 
the effect to lower the rate of taxation. The city fell 
into it, with that object in view, in war times, when 
taxes were very high, and had not since abandoned it. . 
As regards the value of stocks of goods, the conditions 
were more complicated. The representations of those 
who owned them had to be largely relied upon here, 
and assuming that they always dealt fairly with the 
assessors, yet stocks varied from one month to another 
very much in their amounts. Some of the stocks 
were low at the time of the fire. The stock in the 
shoe and leather trade had seldom beern more reduced, 
as very large amounts were sent away in October. On 
the other hand, the dry goods trade, the woolen trade, 
and that in wholesale clothing, was in the height of 
its season. The actual amount of loss can never be. 
known to within several millions. It is safe to pre¬ 
sume that the above figures underrate rather than ex¬ 
ceed it, and probably there will be no safer sum to fix, 
making allowance for contingencies not comprised in 
the Assessors’ statement, than the sum of one hundred 
millions of dollars. 

The proportion of this which fell upon the business 
men and capitalists themselves, aside from those inter¬ 
ested in the insurance, may be fairly stated at con¬ 
siderable more than half that sum, if immediate losses 
only are taken into the calculation. Contingent mis- 


BOSTON. 


285 


fortunes, occasioned by capital being swept away, the 
earnings of years thus gone at single stroke, and, 
added to this deprivation of means, the loss of time in 
renewing the operations of business, and the disad¬ 
vantages under which business must be done for many 
months, increased the injury incalculably. A thousand 
mercantile firms were driven out of their places of 
trade at once. Many of them lost their books, and 
were altogether in confusion as regards the accounts 
of which these were the record; more were deprived 
of their capital; very few, comparatively, saved any 
of their stock in trade. Among all these thousand 
firms there was hardly one that had not been severely in¬ 
jured ; for such a thing as perfect insurance may be said 
to have been unknown in a single instance. By far the 
largest portion had received a stunning blow. Boston 
merchants were in the habit of putting nearly all their 
money into business. They did not even own the houses 
they lived in, as a rule. It was deemed easier to obtain 
mortgages on homesteads at seven per cent, and 
invest the amount in the operations of trade than to 
pay double this rate in discounts to capitalists. Hun¬ 
dreds were thus in a condition where they were swept 
of every cent. Some of the most enterprising, repu¬ 
table, and, but for the fire, strongest houses in the 
city were made bankrupt altogether. The losses in 
the larger trade ranged from fifty thousand dollars 
up to five hundred thousand, and in a few instances 
exceeded even this last amount. Visible suffering from 
the want of the necessaries of life was nowhere ob¬ 
served. But the cases of families reduced from afflu¬ 
ence to actual poverty in everything but credit and 
energy were very numerous. Insurance came in bet¬ 
ter than was at first hoped. It is probable it averaged 


286 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


considerably over fifty per cent. But immense stocks 
had been carried without insurance. The immunity 
of the city from great fires had begotten a confidence 
that even the calamity at Chicago failed to disturb. 
In all the forecasting of the future it is doubtful if 
there were ten men in the city who believed it possi¬ 
ble that Boston could be ever devastated by a great 
fire to a tenth part of the extent that marked the 
progress of this conflagration. The habit of reason¬ 
ing almost universally was against'the total destruc¬ 
tion of even single stocks of goods. A partial calamity 
was the utmost anticipated. The thought that the 
insurance companies of Boston might become bank¬ 
rupt by losses at home was scarcely suggested. Men 
insured elsewhere partly through the importunities of 
agents of foreign companies, whom it was once urged 
that the State Legislature should control and fetter in 
their efforts to divert capital from the State which it 
was enlightened policy to keep within its limits; and 
partly from the fact that, as it cost no more, it was as 
well to distribute risks against even distant chances. 

Thus the fire struck heavily almost every man that 
it reached. The statement was made that a large 
portion of those who suffered were wealthy capi¬ 
talists, able to bear the loss. This was true to a 
certain extent. It was far from being generally the 
case, however. There were hundreds to whom the 
blow was of the severest character, and who passed 
from under it bereft of their all. In some instances 
that all was the accumulation of a lifetime of close ap¬ 
plication and unremitting industry. The calamity 
was the harder to bear from the fact that it found 
those whom it visited in affluence, and left them com¬ 
pelled to begin the work of providing for their 


BOSTON. 


287 


families at the lowest round of the ladder again. In¬ 
finitely worse was it when, as was too frequently the 
case, the men so situated were advanced in years, had 
deemed themselves beyond the reach of the accidents 
of fortune, and had neither the physical vigor nor the 
courage to commence anew the toil of life. There 
was suffering all the more serious among such from 
the fact that it could not be brought to the eye of the 
public in appeals for aid, as in the case of deprivation 
of the poorer classes. No man in the city but knew 
of more or less instances of this nature. The sympa¬ 
thy felt for them was of the keenest character. The 
solicitude felt for the future as it might affect them 
was intense and harrowing. 

The fire had come at the worst season of the year 
also. Winter was close at hand, and must necessarily 
impede greatly the operations of building. New 
stocks could be procured to a great extent; but the 
warehouses for their reception were lacking. The old 
centers of trade were annihilated for present use. They 
certainly could not be utilized for the winter months, 
and it was likely that spring and summer would be 
reached before arrangements could be made for their 
general occupation. Hundreds had obtained no store 
at all. A corner in a counting-room, or a spot for a 
desk, was the best thing procurable. Others yet 
were driven to remote parts of the city, where cus¬ 
tomers would be all unlikely to seek them out, and the 
winter must pass with trade slipping away and the 
old arrangements interfered with to an extent that it 
would be difficult to remedy. Those who had been 
compelled to fail must wait the delay of settlements. 
In this way some of the largest businesses of the city 
were totally at an end for a period indefinite in the 


28S FIGHTING FIRE. 

future. This was true especially of the dry goods 
trade, in which the losses in the largest houses, as a 
rule, were the worst, and had brought suspension as 
the result of complete ruin. 

The number of people engaged as clerks or opera¬ 
tives in the different establishments affected, was in 
itself an army. Of women alone, it was estimated to 
amount to from twelve to fifteen thousand. This was 



CORNHILL, FACING WASHINGTON STREET. 


principally in one branch of trade—that engaged in 
the sale of ready-made clothing. The salesmen and 
the book-keepers in the stores, the porters and the 
packers, the hundreds of men employed in printing 
offices, and scores of minor trades and manufactures 
with which the district was threaded to a large extent, 
were thrown out of occupation also. When business 
was resumed, there was not opportunity for more than 






























































































BOSTON. 


289 


a portion of these to labor. Even had there been a 
disposition to retain them, economy forbade it to men 
who were literally struggling, as these often were, to 
earn their own bread. The opportunity to labor was 
lost, and there were families on every hand depend¬ 
ent upon the earnings of those who were thus 
deprived of it. There was serious, general, wide¬ 
spread distress attending the fire, the effects of which 
promised to be felt long in the future. If abject 
poverty was not presented, general deprivation, per¬ 
haps pressing want, was inevitably to be anticipated. 
It was encouraging to find the people hopeful; but it 
was an utter mistake to assume that devastation such 
as this could end in its results with the immediate 
spectacle of suffering that followed-its ravages. 

Losses in insurance stocks were another item of mag¬ 
nitude in the calamity, aside from the direct ruin 
wrought by the fire. The insurance organizations of 
Boston had gone down almost universally. They may 
be said to have constituted one of the most important 
and flourishing of the fields of operation in the busi¬ 
ness of the city.' Few investments had made a better 
return; few had been more eagerly sought. The 
strength of State street had been largely in them. 
They were deemed safe against any possible contin¬ 
gency—for the fire had not, practically at least, been 
reckoned among the contingencies that were possible. 
Year after year they had distributed heavy dividends. 
Reckoned on the original stock value, in many cases it 
reached thirty per cent per annum. The stock sold 
at an enormous premium. On Saturday it would 
have brought two hundred per cent, advance in more 
than one of the offices in which a day later it was des¬ 
titute of the semblance of value. Men had grown rich 


290 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


on it; others who were not rich were realizing from 
it the income of riches. It was held not alone by 
capitalists. It had been willed to women with the as¬ 
sumed certainty that it would give them an adequate 
fixed income for life. It was almost the sole fortune 
in some cases of orphans. So positive were men in 
their confidence in its security that in one case an in¬ 
dividual is said to have invested his entire fortune, to 
the amount of three hundred thousand dollars, in in¬ 
surance stock. A night converted his condition from 
affluence to beggary. 

The insurance offices of Boston were as completely 
a wreck on the morning after the fire as were the worst 
devastated neighborhoods in which the flames had 
raged. Stock that had brought the fabulous prices 
named above, was not worth the paper that certified 
its existence. From the flush of the most exultant 
prosperity, they were irretrievably bankrupt. Even 
their reputation was blasted. They had ruined the 
men who put trust in them. It is true, no dishonor was 
charged upon those who had been concerned in their 
management. Their proceedings had been open. 
They had publicly paid their large dividends, and had 
sold their stock at its stupendous advance prices in 
open market. But they had promised to pay what 
they could not pay. Men smarted under the regrets 
that they had sought their guaranty in home quarters 
rather than to go out of the state, if not out of the 
country. The recollection was presented to their 
minds, also, of the great profits which had fallen to 
the share of these corporations out of premiums paid 
from the pockets of those who now looked in vain for 
the service which such sums were rendered to secure. 
It was the darkest period among insurance managers. 


BOSTON. 


291 


Legislation was openly invoked that amounted to a 
censure upon their action. They were charged with 
accumulating gains for which there was no justifica¬ 
tion, and with fattening on money the want of which 
was now occasioning widespread ruin. 

All this was unreasonable, but it was not unnatural. 
The system of insurance was not proved to be dis¬ 
honest, or to have taken deliberately unfair advan¬ 
tage ; but it was proved to be defective in its work¬ 
ings. It had encountered a new ordeal, and instead 
of successfully resisting, had failed in it, and had 
brought extensive ruin to others. The people felt 
that they could not trust the system longer. They 
demanded new guarantees for the safety of the policy¬ 
holders. The objection was made to these, on the 
part of the insurance managers, -that they put local 
offices at such disadvantage as threatened to drive the 
bulk of the business of insurance outside the State. 
The subject was submitted to the Legislature, at its 
called session, held in consequence of the fire. There 
was a large amount of capital still represented by those 
who had had the direction of the defunct associations. 
The ablest counsel appeared for them. There was a 
general desire on their part to resume business, and 
confidence was manifested in the ability of most of 
them to become in a short time as strong as ever. 
The disposition at the State-house was, however, averse 
to special charters. A new insurance act was reported, 
that embodied the provisions of a general law, under 
which, with certain added restrictions in the interest 
and for the protection of the public, new companies. 
were authorized to be formed. The large dividends 
formerly paid were made impossible under the provi¬ 
sions of this act, which restricted the percentage to be 


292 


FIRE FIGHTING. 


distributed, and provided for tlie accumulation of a 
considerable guaranty fund. The insurance business 
of the State was thus put on a better basis, as far as 
its system was concerned, than ever before. The best 
companies were soon in a condition to do a prosperous 
business once more. But the days of great divi¬ 
dends were over. Insurance stocks were brought down 
to the line of investments in most other branches 
of corporate property. The practice of insuring at 
home received a damaging shock from the experience 
of the great fire, which it is probable will not be re¬ 
covered from for years in the future. There is likely 
to be more insurance in Boston in proportion to the 
amount of risk than there was earlier; but the tendency 
is to its distribution. Foreign companies were made 
the favorites for the time being. The remark was 
frequently heard, The night of the fire, “If we had but 
placed our insurance abroad! ” There was a disposi¬ 
tion to do this, after Chicago’s experience, and it was 
largely increased by that of Boston. 

This state of facts applied only to the stock compa¬ 
nies, as a matter of course. Among the mutual com¬ 
panies there was little loss to policy-holders. But two 
companies failed‘to pay in full. One of them came 
out with a margin of ten per cent, against it; the 
other, of twenty-five per cent. It was necessary, how¬ 
ever, to assess policy-holders to double the amount of 
their premium notes in many cases. The tax thus 
levied was a heavy infliction upon many. Numbers 
actually did not know or had forgotten that they had 
incurred such a liability. The remainder had never 
dreamed of the possibility of a contingency like that 
which had come upon them. They obtained a new 
insight as regards the workings of the insurance sys- 


BOSTON. 


293 


tem and the popularity of home mutual companies was 
also, at a serious discount. 

The following table will show pretty nearly how the 
loss was distributed, and the amount lost by companies 
in each State and abroad :— 


New York Companies, 
Massachusetts Companies, 
Connecticut Companies, 
California Companies, 
Illinois Companies, 

Maine Companies, 

Missouri Companies, - 
Minnesota Companies, 
New Jersey Companies, 
Ohio Companies, - 
Pennsylvania Companies, 
Rhode Island Companies, - 
Wisconsin Companies, 
Foreign Companies, 


$ 6 , 850,500 

29 , 710,000 

2 , 952,800 

75,000 

30,000 

400,000 

25,000 

50,000 

17,000 

205,000 

2 , 776,500 

920,000 

50,000 

4 , 510,000 


Total, - 


- $ 48 , 572,300 


Of the Massachusetts joint stock companies, the 
American and Mercantile Marine of Boston, the First 
National of Worcester, the Gloucester, the Springfield, 
and the Traders’ and Mechanics’ of Lowell, paid in 
full; the Bay State of Worcester, 75 per cent, and sur¬ 
rendered its charter; the Boston, 70; the. Boylston, 
56; the City, 40; the Eliot, 75; the Exchange, 40; 
the Faneuil Hall, 70; the Firemen’s, Boston, 35 ; 
the Franklin, 25; the Howard, 25; the Lawrence, 
50; the Manufacturers’, 90 ; the Merchant, 50 ; the 
Mutual Benefit, 35; the National, 75; the Neptune, 
GO ; the North American, GO ; the People’s, Worcester, 
90 ; the Prescott, 50; the Shoe and Leather, 25 ; the 
Suffolk, 40; the Tremont, 34; the Washington, 95. 




CHAPTER XVI. 

THE SPIRIT OF THE PEOPLE. 


Tlieir Courage, Energy, and Resolution.—Instances of the Exhibition of 
. these Qualities.—Scouring the City for New Business Quarters.— 
Eruption of Signs Among the Ruins.—The Rush of the Advertisers.— 
The Citizens Meet to Consider the Situation.—A Relief Committee 
Extemporized.—Resolutions and Plan of Action for the Future — 
Honorable Conduct of the Lumber Dealers.—The Common Asked for 
for the Erection of Temporary Stores.—Opposition Thereto, and Final 
Defeat of the Proposition.—A Mushroom Settlement in the Burnt 
District.—The Faneuil Hall Citizens’ Meeting.—It Asks for the 
Passage of a Loan Act by the Legislature.—Opposition to this 
Measure.—Its Final Triumph.—Sympathy Shown from Abroad.—Its 
Spirit Checked by Over-Confidence Expressed in Boston.—The Mayor 
Takes the Right Ground, and is Sustained by the Relief Committee.— 
Too Late, however, to Undo the Mischief.—Unjust Attacks on the 
Mayor in the Press.—The Burden of Relief Thrown Chiefly upon the 
City.—The City Bears It, but Unfortunately and Unnecessarily. 



own 

were 


HE splendid courage, resolution, and energy 
of will with which the people of Boston 
met their calamity—the hope for the future 
evinced on every hand, in the face of the 
most depressing discouragement, and the 
faith in their resources to recover their 
fortunes and renew the fortunes of their city— 
a source of surprise and renewed admiration, 

(294) 



BOSTON. 


295 

even to those who knew the New England character, 
and had confidence in its power to endure misfortune 
and to overcome it. Of the scores of agents sent there 
by the press of the country, and the hundreds of mer¬ 
chants and others who came to gain information of the 
state of affairs existing, scarcely one failed to remark 
this, and to speak admiringly of it. "The spirit of the 
people is magnificent,” were words in the mouths of 
all of them. There was no yielding that was visi¬ 
ble. The despondent, if such there were, appeared 
not upon the streets and in the public places. The 
universal determination was that of resistance. It 
came at first as by an instinctive impulse; it was 
continued as a duty that men owed to their sense of 
manliness. i 

Something has been said elsewhere, in connection 
with the sights upon the streets the morning after the 
fire was over, of the manifestation of this spirit. It 
began to be seen even while the fire was racing" A 
Sunday morning paper, which was put to press while 
the contest appeared most unsuccessful with the flames, 
and the space attacked was one sheet of fire from 
Washington street to the water, contained the an¬ 
nouncement of the change of location of a Savings 
Bank, the President of which was a loser to the extent 
of towards half a million. Men were met everywhere 
who were burned out, losing every cent they were 
worth, yet coolly and composedly saying, “ We start 
again on Monday. We don’t know where our offices 
or our stores will be; but they will be somewhere. 
The fire can destroy our property; it can’t burn out 
our spirit.” These exhibitions were not exceptional. 
They pervaded business circles all about. 

When Monday morning came, the work of scouring 
the city for new business quarters commenced. The 


296 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


field was sadly limited. He who would succeed in it 
had not a moment to lose. Before night a majority 
of the firms burned out had made their arrangements. 
They had occupied the territory outside the region 
of the fire from one end of its area to the other. 
They had gone north to the last available spot, and 
they had visited the south and the west to find every 
foothold that could possibly be made to afford them a 
space in which to establish their nucleus for the re¬ 
newal of trade. Those who had escaped the fire met 
them in an equally commendable spirit. Rents rose, 
of necessity,—it could hardly be otherwise, with the 
great added demand,—and cupidity was not always 
proof against extortion; but the general disposition 
was that of sympathy and kindness. Temporary 
shelter, as a rule, was never denied when it was possi¬ 
ble to accord it, and the cases were many in which 
compensation therefor was persistently refused. 

The burnt district, on all its borders, and far into its 
interior, broke out into an eruption of painted boards 
nailed to sticks stuck into its ruins, which contained 
notifications of these re-establishments of those who 
had been located upon it. The newspaper offices were 
crowded with men who came to advertise where they 
were to be found. This new directory, as it may be 
called, began to appear on Monday night. The col¬ 
umns of the press were curiosities for the entire week, 
as they chronicled the new locations of trade. The 
immediate advertising that the fire occasioned in this 
way was beyond the capacity of the journals to com¬ 
ply with. It called for extra sheets in every office. 
It excluded the news of the fire that the public was 
so eager to obtain. There was a contest between the 
editors and the advertisers as to who should possess the 


BOSTON, 


297 


columns. The advertisers won the victory; the count¬ 
ing-room is apt to be too strong for the editorial force 
of newspapers, in Boston and out of it; but even then 
the demand was not met. This beginning of energy 
impressed every one, and did much to inspire needed 
confidence by its auspicious exhibition. 

Public action in aid both of the business of the 
city and of the thousands who were presumed to be in 
danger of suffering from having been connected with 
it was promptly taken. The citizens repaired in large 
numbers to the City Hall on Sunday afternoon. The 
Mayor addressed them, stating that the city govern¬ 
ment had already taken action with a view to the re¬ 
lief of the unfortunate. Several prominent citizens 
spoke, dwelling upon the exigency that had occurred, 
and suggesting methods to meet it. A large relief 
committee was then appointed, with power to add to 
its numbers. Assurances of sympathy and offers of 
aid were reported as already coming in by delegations 
and by telegraph, from quarters near and more remote. 

The Committee of Belief held an early session the 
next morning. The following resolutions were then 
presented and unanimously adopted, laying out a par¬ 
tial plan for future action: 

Resolved , That the appeal to the city of Boston to 
establish anew in the burnt district the lines of all the 
streets which are too narrow or too crooked for the 
present and future wants of the chief city of New 
England, imperatively demands immediate action. 

Resolved , That the citizens of Boston assembled in 
this hall respectfully and earnestly request the Street 
Commissioners and the City Council of Boston imme¬ 
diately to revise and establish the lines of the streets 
in the burned district upon a comprehensive and lib¬ 
eral plan, relying upon the character, energy, and pro¬ 
gressive spirit of the people to approve such action, 


298 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


and we pledge ourselves to support the Commissioners 
and City Council in the exercise of the power and re¬ 
sponsibility belonging to them in this regard. 

Resolved , That the citizens of Boston earnestly re¬ 
quest the City Council to prohibit any further con¬ 
struction of Mansard roofs, and to limit the height of 
all buildings within the city limits, so that such a con¬ 
flagration may not be repeated. 

Resolvedy That the time and opportunity for the 
erection of a Merchant’s Exchange in the centre of 
business, associating together all engaged in mercan¬ 
tile pursuits, has arrived, and we strongly advise that 
steps be taken at once to procure a proper site and 
erect a suitable building adapted to the uses and 
w orthy of the merchants of Boston. 

It was further voted to recommend that a committee 
be appointed to urge the General Government to ac¬ 
quire the land between the new Post-office and Con¬ 
gress street, to enlarge the present site for Government 
buildings; recommending the appointment of a com¬ 
mittee to request the Massachusetts Senators and Rep¬ 
resentatives in Congress to secure the passage of an 
act of Congress allowing the same drawback on build¬ 
ing material as was allowed to Portland and Chicago; 
that a committee be instructed to draw up a resolution 
to be presented to the General Committee recommend¬ 
ing the calling of an extra session of the Legislature 
by the Governor for the purpose of passing whatever 
acts may be necessary to allow the city of Boston to 
furnish aid to the sufferers; and recommending the 
appointment of a committee to call a meeting of the 
citizens of Boston. Committees were appointed to 
carry out the objects set forth in the last of these res¬ 
olutions. 

Simultaneously with this action,* and in entire con¬ 
sonance with the general spirit, the lumber dealers of 


boston. 299 

the city met and expressed their sense of their duties 
in the crisis by the adoption of the following preamble 
and resolutions: 

Whereas, Our city has been visited by a terrible 
calamity, inflicting serious disaster upon the whole 
community, and realizing the importance of the 
earnest co operation of all who are able to contribute 
to the immediate restoration of such structures as the 
wants of our people may require, it is therefore 

Resolved , That this Association tender to all wishing 
to rebuild in this city the stock of lumber now in their 
possession at such prices as have recently ruled in their 
respective establishments. 

Resolved , That as the interests of our business are 
identified with the interests of those who have so re¬ 
cently suffered, we hereby pledge ourselves to stand 
firm against any advance in prices, unless made by 
absolute necessity. 

The Board of Aldermen had been in session more 
or less frequently from the morning of Sunday. The 
Common Council met the same day, to co-operate in 
its action as far as was necessary. It was decided, by 
a concurrent vote of the two branches, to request of 
the Governor of the state that a special session of the 
Legislature should be called to provide measures in 
legislation indicated as necessary from the effects of 
the fire. A resolution was also adopted looking to the 
expediency of action that should provide for the loan¬ 
ing the credit of the city by the issuing of bonds, or 
otherwise, for the relief of such of the citizens as had 
lost their property by the fire and needed temporary 
assistance. An order was also passed which authorized 
and directed “ that portions of the Common and public 
grounds be occupied in such manner as the public ne¬ 
cessities required, for fellow-citizens whose places of 
business or employment had been destroyed by the 


300 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


recent terrible conflagration, and whose wants and 
suffering required immediate attention and relief.” 
The use of the Common had already been petitioned 
for for this purpose. In the enthusiasm of sympathy 
which prevailed, it was at once granted under the 
above vote by the popular branch of the City Govern¬ 
ment. The measure met with objections in the Board 
of Aldermen, but after protracted discussion it passed 
that body by a vote of ten to two. The minority of 
the Aldermen continued to protest, however, against 
this the most radical step yet taken. On further re¬ 
flection, the feeling against it also strengthened in the 
public mind outside. A petition was started in re¬ 
monstrance which was largely signed by influential 
citizens. The question of the legality of the step was 
also raised. The City Solicitor was appealed to, and 
gave a decision against it, which put a stop to further 
efforts to obtain its adoption. The purpose had been 
to collect a large portion of the wholesale traders in 
temporary structures of wood or of corrugated iron. 
Most probably the latter only would have been allowed, 
on account of the great liability to another fire from 
wooden buildings. 

A plan which met with more favor was that of the 
authorization of the use for buildings of what was 
formerly the territory of Fort Hill, and which was now 
the property of the city. Upon this there was at once 
commenced the erection of temporary structures for 
business. These were made of wood and of corrugated 
iron. They sprang up almost in a night-time, and pre¬ 
sented a singular appearance to the eye. No attempt 
whatever was made to render them ornamental or at¬ 
tractive. The baldest utility was the extent of the 
ambition of their proprietors. Their continuance 


BOSTON. 


301 


could not be allowed beyond the time when the season 
for permanent building operations should commence. 
They answered their purpose, and were of essential 
aid, in the crowded condition of other business por¬ 
tions of the city; but nobody desired to perpetuate 
proofs of their architecture in any other than the 
spirit of curiosity. 

The general meeting of the citizens was held at 
Faneuil Hall on Wednesday, the third day after The 
lire. There was a large attendance of the people. The 
Mayor presided, and opened the meeting with remarks, 
and other distinguished gentlemen, both of Boston and 
other cities, also took part in the proceedings. The 
spirit of hope on the part of the people of Boston, 
and of sympathy on that of others, was largely evinced 
here. The resolutions above printed were substan¬ 
tially adopted. The resolution in relation to Mansard 
roofs was received with emphatic approbation, against 
which one gentleman made a temperate and sensible 
protest, on the ground that the Mansard roof was less 
to be condemned than was the method of its construc¬ 
tion. The proposition, that had been greatly in favor, 
of asking the Legislature to authorize the issuance 
of a loan of the city credit for the purpose of rebuild¬ 
ing, here first took form. It contemplated the passage 
of a law enabling the city of Boston to make and issue 
its bonds, for not exceeding $20,000,000 in amount in 
the whole, payable in not less than ten years, at a rate 
of interest not exceeding five per cent, for those pay¬ 
able in gold, and six per cent, for those payable in 
currency, to be called the Summer-street Fire Improve¬ 
ment Bonds, to be placed in the hands of a commission 
of not more than five persons, to be appointed by the 
Mayor, with the approval of the City Council, “ whose 


302 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


duty it shall be to lend such bonds or their proceeds 
to such owners of land burned over by the recent fire, 
who shall make application therefor, and commence 
rebuilding on the burned land within one year from 
the date when the streets shall have been laid out 
anew and been made ready for rebuilding; and shall 
secure said loan upon the said land by a mortgage 
conditional for the use of said loan in rebuilding upon 
said land so burned over, and conveying a title satis¬ 
factory to the City Solicitor; and the proceeds of said 
loan not to be advanced until the building on said land 
has made such progress as to insure its completion, in 
the belief of said commission; and such further pro¬ 
visions and conditions to be annexed to said loan by 
the commissioners as shall, in their opinion, alford the 
greater necessity of its use for the purpose of rebuild¬ 
ing on said land and of its being repaid to the city.’ , 

The opinion of the meeting was unanimously, as far 
as was made apparent, in favor of asking the city for 
the passage of such an act. It met with opposition 
later, however. It was urged against it that the peo- 
j)le were strong enough to rebuild the territory with¬ 
out such aid; that to ask it was an unnecessary and 
injudicious acknowledgment of weakness; that the 
only precedent in its favor was in the case of the city 
of Portland, a much weaker, and, in proportion to its 
capital, worse-visited city than Boston; that Chicago 
had been able to sustain itself without resort to such 
a step, and that what Chicago could do, Boston should 
be equal to accomplishing. Such an extreme measure, 
it was further urged, would tend to strengthen the 
danger of a panic in the money market, of which con¬ 
siderable apprehension had been expressed. There 
was a prospect of a large amount of money coming 


BOSTON. 


303 


to Boston as soon as building operations commenced, 
which would enable those in need of funds to procure 
them with no more than the ordinary facilities. On the 
other hand, it was urged that if a great deal of money 
was coming, a great deal would go out, also, in the 
replacement of the stocks of goods that had been lost. 
The point most pressed was, the danger that heavy 
capitalists might take advantage of the necessities of 
those who were in want of funds, and possess them¬ 
selves of the territory at rates less than its real value. 
The opinion was overwhelming that it was advisable 
to make it a certainty that the enterprising and the 
deserving should have facilities to obtain capital at 
low rates. The question was argued before the Gov¬ 
ernor and Council on the application for the extra 
session of the Legislature, which was opposed on the 
ground that the main object of it was to secure this 
legislation. The objections were overruled at this 
stage by the Governor’s assenting to the application, 
and summoning the Legislature to meet. The bill, 
when reported, afterwards met with opposition in that 
body, but passed both branches by a nearly unanimous 
vote. 

From the first moment that the intelligence of the 
magnitude of the conflagration was made known in 
other parts of the country, assurances of .sympathy 
towards the people of Boston began to pour in by tel¬ 
egraph and by mail. Chicago was one of the first of 
the cities heard from in this way. Her people seemed 
moved by one universal impulse to extend aid to Bos¬ 
ton. They remembered their own calamity of a year 
earlier. They appreciated, even more vividly than the 
facts fortunately proved to warrant, the state of suffer¬ 
ing which the fire had produced. They bore in mind 


304 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


that in their own day of trial, before the flames had 
ceased to rage, Boston sent a dispatch to them, by its 
leading banking-house, to draw for one hundred thou¬ 
sand dollars on the instant. They proffered unlimited 
aid, in a spirit that touched closely the hearts of Bos¬ 
tonians. Portland, with a similar recollection of the 
time when she had sat amidst her ashes, was prompt 
to extend similar proffers. From New York, Philadel¬ 
phia, Baltimore, Cincinnati, St. Louis, New Orleans, 
San Francisco—from scores of the smaller cities— 
even from the less prosperous and, as it had been be¬ 
fore believed, less sympathetic cities of the southern 
country, there was the same cheering expression of 
the desire to aid. Had this spirit not been checked, 
the contributions that would have come to Boston 
would have been so considerable as to have evinced 
the high estimation in which her people were held, and 
the generosity towards those in misfortune that is so 
creditable a trait of the American character, to as 
striking an extent as was observed in the case of the 
sufferers at Chicago. 

Unfortunately, a chill was cast upon this generosity 
by the action of a portion of the people of Boston. 
The strong self-reliance which is so marked a feature 
in the character of many of them exhibited itself 
almost ungraciously. It all arose from the most con¬ 
scientious motives and the truest intentions. There 
had been little direct personal suffering, calling for 
immediate aid, that was apparent. It was reasoned 
from this that there was no suffering, contingent as 
well as immediate, that the people of the city them¬ 
selves could not provide for. Acting on this presump¬ 
tion, at the session of the Belief Committee on Thurs¬ 
day, the fourth day from the fire, the following reso¬ 
lution was offered: 


BOSTON. 


305 


Resolved , That while we are profoundly grateful to 
the people of all parts of the country who have ex¬ 
pressed their sympathy and tendered their assistance 
to us in our calamity, and with entire readiness and 
thanksgiving to accept the same if circumstances made 
it necessary to do so, it gives unalloyed pleasure to 
say that, while our losses have been great, Provi¬ 
dence has so blessed our people that the assistance so 
generously tendered our citizens is not required. 

This resolution was not adopted. It met with de¬ 
cided opposition from several gentlemen, and was sup¬ 
ported by almost nobody but its mover. The Mayor 
took ground against it, in a verv forcible and effective 
speech, which embodied unmistakably the feeling of 
most of those present. Immediately after he had con¬ 
cluded, a second resolution was offered as a substitute 
for the other, which was couched in the following 
terms: 

Resolved , That the Committee, in behalf of the citi¬ 
zens of Boston, return most sincere thanks to their fel¬ 
low-citizens in all parts of the Union for the warm ex¬ 
pressions of sympathy which they have tendered at 
this time of calamity, and for the friendly offers of pe¬ 
cuniary aid which they have made, and that these 
friendly offers be and they are hereby gratefully ac¬ 
cepted. 

Rev. Robert Laird Collier, of Chicago, who was 
present, and Mr. Shippen, of Philadelphia, who had 
come to Boston as the representative of the Relief 
Committee of that city, spoke warmly in urging upon 
Boston the acceptance of the aid that had been ten¬ 
dered. The feeling of the committee became so 
strong that in the end it resulted in the unanimous 
adoption of the last resolution. 

The mistake that had been made was not so readily 
remedied, however. The few gentlemen who had op- 


306 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


posed receiving aid were still unconvinced. They 
were joined by others outside, and in a much less tem¬ 
perate mood. A spirit of self-sufficiency began to be 
evinced. Communications were sent to the news¬ 
papers declaring that the city had been disgraced. 
Violent, bitter, and unjust articles upon the ■ Mayor 
appeared in print. The editors of two or three of the 
city papers joined this side of the question. Despite 
the action of the Relief Committee, it went out to the 
country that Boston refused aid, and ungraciously re¬ 
jected the endeavor on the part of the sister cities to 
establish a bond of sympathy by taking a share in 
the burden that had fallen upon her. The effect 
was to put an end to much of the effort to send con¬ 
tributions to her people. The opponents of receiving 
contributions had gained their end in reality. Funds 
ceased almost entirely to be sent. The city had the 
work before it of ministering almost exclusively to 
its own necessities. 

It was equal to the task. Yet that which would 
have proved a gratification, and been recognized almost 
as a duty, on the part of those who had observed and 
experienced the liberality of Boston on other occa¬ 
sions, came as a burden to the inhabitants of an 
already heavily-weighted city. Though the fire had 
ravaged but one of its quarters, and had deprived di¬ 
rectly of all their possessions only a portion of its peo¬ 
ple, yet its effects were felt in the entire community 
In the loss of insurance stocks; in the lessening of 
almost every kind of trade by the abstracting of such 
an immense amount of capital from those who had 
thus lost the ability to purchase; in the large sums 
the payment of which must fail from the ruin of those 
that had incurred them as debts; in the neatly abso- 


BOSTON. 


307 


lute breaking up for months of those branches of busi- 
iness on which the city had been most dependent for 
its prosperity—the people had suffered so almost uni¬ 
versally that exceptions were scarcely heard of. It 
was a people so situated that w’ere called upon, through 
the honest pride, it may be, but moat mistaken in its 
exhibition, of a few of the more resolute and self-reliant 
in its number, to provide for the wants of the thou¬ 
sands who were palpably objects of charity, or were to 

become such in the next few months, from the effects 

• * 

of the fire. It was not a question of the providing 
* food and clothing alone for these. A comparatively 
small sum would have paid their board and given them 
the other necessaries of life through the winter. But 
they did not desire to be thus kept dependent in idle¬ 
ness. What they needed was to be placed in the same 
position to labor that they had occupied before the fire 
bereaved them. The women needed to be supplied 
with sewing machines, and perhaps with the furniture 
of a room in which they might establish themselves; 
the men required the tools of the trades in which they 
were engaged. A few hundred thousand dollars could 
hardly have been put to a better use than in supplying 
these. There were those outside who, with ready 
generosity, stood ready to furnish these—who could 
have furnished them with no sacrifice that was not 
ten-fold compensate'd by the consciousness of a good 
deed done. There were those in Boston who could do 
it too, and who would not do it grudgingly. But the 
opportunity ought not to have been denied to the one 
class, or the duty added to the already burdened 
shoulders of the other. 

This mistake of Boston was the mistake of self- 
reliance, and was only the exhibition in its extreme 

18 



308 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


proportions of the general spirit that pervaded her 
people. It should be said, in justice to them, that it 
was not made in a temper of Phariseeism, but because 
such a course was believed to be one of duty. It was 
part and parcel of that earnestness, that activity, that 
determined effort to breast misfortune and to overcome 
it, which were so magnificently shown in the state of 
feeling that has been set forth in this chapter. It has 
been continued with unabated resolution in all the 
stages of difficulty and discouragement, up to the 
present time, and no one questions that it is destined 
to endure to the end. 
































CHAPTER XVII. 

FIGHTING THE FIRE. 

Censures upon the Fire Department.—Delay in Reaching the Scene.— 
Early Fury of the Flames.—Combustible Character of the Material in 
which they Originated.—Fire easily Controlled on its Southern Side.—• 
Resistless Apparently Elsewhere.—The Theory of Atmospheric Con¬ 
ditions.—Failure in Franklin Street.—Success on Washington Street.— 
The Use of Gunpowder.—It is Discountenanced by the Chief Engineer. 
—He Yields to the Solicitations of the Citizens.—Little Good Accom¬ 
plished by its Use.—This, probably because it was in Inexperienced 
Hands.—No Skill or System Seen.—The Chief Engineer Overcome by 
his Responsibilities.—A Committee of Investigation.—The Mansard 
Roof Again.—Other Agencies for the Spread of the Fire.—Heroism of 
the Firemen.—Their Daring Unsurpassed.—They Encounter Danger 
Constantly —Loss of Life Among Them.—Examples of Martyrdom.— 
List of Killed and Wounded. 

HE inadequacy—or, at any rate, ineffec¬ 
tiveness—of the efforts made to extinguish 
the flames of the conflagration in the 
earlier and middle stages of the night of 
the 9th were made the subject of severe 
comment, in Boston and out of it, and 
the English press was especially censorious upon 
the want of facilities for putting out the fire and 
the lack of efficiency in the fire department. The fight 
with the fire was, from the first, an unequal battle. That 

(309) 





310 


FIGHTING FI HE. 


it was culpable to expose a city to such a danger as 
this proved to be, while in an area that extended over 
many miles no horses were provided to draw engines to 
its scene, must be admitted. Two or three engines 
certainly were brought a distance of three* miles by 



THE BURNED DISTRICT. 


hand, and when they did reach the spot they found 
others there with insufficiency of coal for their uses. 
Whether the fire could have been checked in the 
store in which it originated, by promptness in bring¬ 
ing water to bear upon it, may be an open question; 









BOSTON. 


311 


but it is one in which the probabilities are strongly 
upon the affirmative side of the question, if this fire 
is judged by the standard of others. It was a very 
unusual thing for any fire to spread into more than 
one building in Boston, except when it started among 
old and inflammable wooden structures The fact, before 
noted, that merchants were not in the habit of insur¬ 
ing to the full amount of their stocks of goods is 
proof of the confidence that prevailed in the city’s 
system for extinguishment. 

At the time that the engines were brought to bear 
upon the flames—which was nearly thirty minutes 
from that of the alarm, as is generally believed—it is 
certain that they were raging with a fierceness alto¬ 
gether exceptional. Two stores, on opposite sides 
of the street, were enveloped, and both alike were 
impervious to the assaults of water. The Mansard 
roofs, which later came in for a heavy share of 
blame, were not yet responsible. Neither store took 
first in its roof. The flames ascended rather, though 
when they came to make complete destruction, the 
upper stories burnt out first. The force of the fire, 
at this point of its starting, is .to be attributed to the 
highly combustible nature of the goods—cotton-cloths, 
hoop-skirt coverings—with which the buildings were 
packed from top to bottom, and to their great height. 
The fact that the flames were almost instantly com¬ 
municated from the under to the upper stories may be 
accounted for by the presence of open elevators, 
through which the fire rushed as through a chimney, 
finding a draft to attract it, and abundance of material 
on which to feed, wherever it reached. 

While the flames were among these high buildings, 
thus constructed and thus stored, they baffled all 



312 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


efforts to quell their fury. Outside of them, even at 
the beginning, there was a different state of affairs. 
“The fire was well managed on its southern side,” 
was the common observation the week after. The 
southern side was the only point in the vicinity into 
which the high and heavily laden buildings did not 
extend. The engines readily reached the attacked 
portions here, and the spread of the -destruction was 
stayed. In other directions, the work of conflict was 
carried on with equal energy; the firemen pressed so 
close to the burning buildings that they were com¬ 
pelled all the time to be showered with water 
to enable them to live; they exposed themselves 
to constant danger by their daring in penetrating 
the interiors of buildings imminently threatened or 
already on fire; but everything was utterly with¬ 
out avail. The flames spread with a rapidity not 
onlv never, before known, but never dreamed of as 
possible. To one who saw them, the theory of pe¬ 
culiar atmospheric conditions before suggested will 
seem almost the only way of accounting for this. As 
they spread in volume, it was more reasonable to at¬ 
tribute their rage to the intense heat that had been 
generated from the vast area covered, and the roaring 
current of air which this heat itself raised, and which 
served as a tremendous draft. Among narrow streets 
on which were high buildings, all the firemen that could 
be ranged, with the best appliances that invention 
had furnished them, could not control such a fire as 
was that of Boston, when it turned in its solid body to 
make its rapid advance to the east. Neither could it 
have been restrained by water in its northern progress, 
short of Franklin street. There was an opportunity 
to stay it here. The street was the widest in its cen- 



WASHINGTON STREET, LOOKING TOWARD THE OLD SOUTH CHURCH, DURING THE FIRE. 






































BOSTON. 


315 


tral range of any that the fire visited at any time. It 
was a much less unequal contest in appearance at this 
point than was that on the Washington street line, 
where the firemen won so signal a victory. But there 
seems to have been a demoralization in the department 
at this Franklin street crisis. The lower part of the 
street was beyond the hope of saving by anything ex¬ 
cept powder. The fire had enveloped all beyond it 
to the east in one fell swoop, as it were. The head 
of the department lost heart. He allowed the flames 
to cross Franklin street without resistance, for scarcely 
an engine was to be found there when it .made its 
passage. 

The story of the Washington street resistance has 
been told elsewhere. On this line, on that to the 
north where the final stand was made the next day, 
and on that which has just been described, were the 
only points at which water would have been available, 
after the fire had entered upon its grand progress in 
three directions. But perhaps the chief point in con¬ 
troversy is, Could another element have been effectual? 
The expedient of blowing up buildings, by the use of 
powder was not a new or an untried one. Scarcely a 
great fire is on record in which it was not used with 
success. When, therefore, it was found that water was 
of so little avail,—"that the efforts of the firemen had 
ceased to have effect after they had stayed the ad¬ 
vance of the flames on their southern border, and that 
in other directions their spread was rapid and their 
area all the time increasing,—it was natural that the 
use of powder should be suggested. It was uni-- 
versally in the mouths of men about the flames, as 
early as ten o’clock in the evening, “We shall never 
stop this till we blow up buildings.” Many went to 




316 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the Mayor to ask that it should be done. The Mayor 
naturally referred the subject to the Chief Engineer. 
The Chief Engineer was against taking this step, so 
far as evidence is apparent. Why he was against it, 
perhaps it is unfair to assume aside from the, reasons 
he himself renders, which are that he had no faith in 
its efficiency for the purpose in view. Yet, examining 
all the circumstances of the situation, and reviewing 
the events of that night, it appears to be more proba¬ 
ble that his reluctance arose from the fact that he had 
made no preparations of explosive material, and did 
not know how to use these if that difficulty were over¬ 
come. It was part and parcel, if this suggestion be 
correct, of that excessive confidence which had never 
assumed the possibility of an extensive fire, and had 
deemed the city safe without even horses to draw the 
engines to the scene of disaster. The Chief Engineer, 
however strong his own opinion may have been as 
to the uselessness of powder, was ready to yield it to 
the solicitations made by others. He was probably so 
thoroughly overcome by the immense responsibility 
all at once settled upon his shoulders, that he was re¬ 
lieved by the prospect of being able to share it. The 
order was issued tardily for the procurement of pow¬ 
der, and a great deal of time was lost later in carrying 
it into execution. 

0 

It was claimed by the chief engineer and those who 
took sides with him, after the fire was over, that the 
powder did no good. They were probably not far 
from right in this. But inconceding somuch, it by 
no means follows that powder, or some other explosive 
material, was not needed. The failure is not to be as¬ 
sumed as evidence of the inutility of explosive efforts 
at fires. If the explosions failed at all, it is much 


BOSTON. 


317 


more just to say that they failed because they were not 
intelligently directed. Had the city possessed a trained 
body of men who thoroughly understood how to su¬ 
perintend this work of destruction, and had there been 
the material for their use in some position where 
it could be speedily obtained, the spread of the 
lire might have been very much less than in the end 
it proved to be. The Department seems to have 
turned its efforts in only one direction. The steam 
fire engines were almost its exclusive reliance. Neither 
the firemen nor their officers knew how to handle any 
other weapon, even the hook and ladder force proving 
much smaller than was needed. So the powder, when 
it came, was intrusted to the management of volunteer 
citizens. These used it without skill or system. They 
exploded buildings almost on the edge of the fire. 
The effect was to add to it fuel. The flames passed 
over the debris without difficulty ; they found, indeed, 
a new fire kindled in the ruins, which was their rein¬ 
forcement, rather than their obstruction. An immense 
amount of powder was used. The report of it after 
midnight was constantly heard as it was applied to 
one and another edifice. But when the smoke had 
died away, the volume of the conflagration was seen to 
advance more rapidly than ever. 

The citizens labored as faithfully and as intelligently 
in this work as they were capable of doing. The mis¬ 
fortune was that they were not competent properly 
to conduct it. Sometimes they blew out the windows 
of buildings and left the walls standing; more often 
everything went down. But the line that was needed 
to be made, behind which, if the fire attempted to pass, 
the firemen could have the opportunity to rally and 
fight it as they could not if the high buildings in its 


318 


FIGHTING FIRE. 

path were still standing, was made so near the fire that 
it was practically unavailable. The flames were there 
before the firemen, and they occupied the chasm so 
completely as to annul the power of resistance. A 
competent corps of engineers would have anticipated 
this state of affairs. It would have observed system 
and coolness in its method of explosion—would have 
commenced it away from the fire, and would have 
been fully prepared with its forces when the de¬ 
cisive point was reached. It may be said that in 
this method of proceeding the powder might have set 
a new fire, and only made the difficulty worse. But 
there is no proof that there was any necessity to resort 
to powder. Nitro-glycerine and dualin are surely not 
unknown as explosive agents, and it ought not to have 
been beyond the resources of the fire department to 
possess them. 

The head of the Boston Fire Department was prob¬ 
ably a good routine officer. He had served his way 
up to the head of it, through the different stages. But 
he had not the capacity either to provide against the 
occurrence of a great conflagration in the beginning, or 
to control it after it was fairly in progress. Aside from 
the knowledge that might have been obtained from 
the lesson of Chicago, the work of resistance was one 
of far less difficulty than in the fire in that city. The 
flames extended, with a single exception, and that not 
an embarrassing one, only on their immediate lines. 
Cinders and brands filled the air, but they fortunately 
failed to kindle new fires. In Chicago, the wind was 
blowing heavily: in Boston, there had been seldom 
known a calmer evening. None of the population in 
the latter city were in danger. There was no appear¬ 
ance of anything approaching a panic. Excitement 



BOSTON. 


319 


there was, of course ; but nothing that could at all im¬ 
pede the efforts of the firemen. It was known just 
where the fire was, and there was no apprehension of its 
spreading beyond its front, except on lines of steady 
advance. 

At the time this history is printed the committee 
appointed to investigate the circumstances of the fire 
have not made a report. It is believed that the result 
of their investigations will develop a state of facts not 
materially differing from those above stated. Less 
stress has been placed, perhaps, upon the agency of 
the Mansard roofs in spreading the flames than ap¬ 
peared in most of the accounts of the day. These 
roofs were seized upon as a sort of scapegoat. As 
built, they were doubtless dangerous. The fire spread 
along them at times with fearful rapidity. But they 
were far from being the only means of its commu¬ 
nication. Properly constructed, there was -no more 
to be apprehended from them than from the earlier 
method of architecture. The great height of the build¬ 
ings was fully as much a cause of difficulty. The les¬ 
son of the event was principally the danger of depend¬ 
ence alone upon the engines to reach such an altitude 
with streams of water. Construct the Mansard roof of 
iron, and communicate with it hose through which wa¬ 
ter could be forced to its surface, and it is as safe as 
any other form of roof, and greatly more useful and 
ornamental than that which it supplanted. The fire 
was finally stopped, in almost every instance, because 
it had reached low buildings, or by special efforts in 
covering exposed positions, with woolens saturated 
with water, or by deluging others with water from the 
engines in many streams together. 

The individual firemen, as a rule, fought with a 


320 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


fidelity that merits high praise. There were excep¬ 
tions to this, but they arose from a defective system of 
organization in most instances. The labors of the de¬ 
partment in Washington street have never been ex¬ 
celled in vigor, and were crowned with a success which, 
to those who appreciate the obstacles, carries with it 
the highest credentials of praise. The men exhibited 
a personal heroism also as chivalrous as in that of the 
noblest deeds of the battle-field. There was constant 
risk of life throughout all the long hours of that night 
struggle, from which few, if any shrunk. To the last 
moment they stayed by their post of duty, scorched, 
battered, bruised, threatened on every hand. They 
planted ladders and made ascents the peril of which 
chilled the hearts of those who witnessed them. They 
dashed through flame itself to reach a point of danger. 
They remained in spots that commanded positions 
where the fire could be resisted till roof and rafter fell 
about them. Few of the more active of this class 
came out unscathed, and several lost their lives in those 
deeds of daring 1 . 

The first known victim of the fire was a youth of 
eighteen, and not a member of the fire department, 
named Frank D. Olmstead. He was in Federal street, 
and, while effort was being made to save part of the 
stock in the carriage depository of C. T. Walker & Co., 
which was in a large wooden building, it was observed 
that a high brick wall adjoining was in danger of fall¬ 
ing outward, and crushing those inside. Young Olm¬ 
stead volunteered to rush in and give warning to the 
firemen who were at work there. He was called back, 
but kept on, gave the warning, and was nearly out 
when the wall fell. It did not bury him, but he was 
hit by fragments, receiving fatal wounds, of which he 


BOSTON. 


321 


died on the succeeding day. Some of the firemen of 
Engine No. 1 of Cambridge, who recognized him, 
brought him out at peril to themselves, and tenderly 
put a fireman’s cape ‘‘over him. He had recently left, 
the high school of Cambridge,, with flattering testimo¬ 
nials, to begin business life, and was only in his eigh¬ 
teenth year. He was known and loved for good con¬ 
duct, pleasant manners, fearlessness in adventure, and 
for bodily activity. So much were the Cambridge 
firemen affected by his brave and generous effort, that, 
on the day of the funeral, they dressed their houses in 
black and set their flags at half-mast. 

Of those firemen who were killed or wounded 
during the fire, the officials in the Fire Department 
Office procured a record of the following named per¬ 
sons. Killed—William Farry, foreman of Hook and 
Ladder 4, Boston; Daniel Cochran, assistant foreman 
of Hook and Ladder 4, Boston; Lewis C. Thompson 
volunteer on a Worcester engine; Walter S. Twombley, 
of Sherman Hose No. 2, Malden; John Connelly, 
member of Hook and Ladder 1, of West Roxbury ; L. 
Porter Abbott, of the Charlestown Department. Total, 
6. Injured—Thomas Maloney, of Hook and Ladder 2 
of Worcester—probably fatally injured; Thomas 
McCann, of Hook and Ladder 2 of Worcester, slightly 
injured; Albert C. Abbott, of Charlestown Department; 
who afterward died; Thomas Mahan (badly burned), 
substitute on steamer 10, of Boston; James S. Hook 
(ribs broken), Engine No. 1, of Malden; William T. 
Woodward (broken shoulder), Steamer 18, of Dor¬ 
chester; John Richardson (leg and arm injured), En¬ 
gine, No. 2, of New Haven, A. E. Entell (injured in 
back), of Worcester Department; Benjamin D. Griggs 
(slightly injured), Hose No. 2, of West Newton. To- 



322 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


tal, 9. Total killed and wounded, 15. Among the 
missing was a young man named Rogers, who was 
acting as a volunteer on steamer 6 of Boston. 

The deaths of William Farry, Daniel Cochran and 
John Connelly resulted from efforts to rescue others 
from danger. While the fire was raging in the store 
of Weeks & Potter, on Washington street, at about 
seven o’clock on Sunday morning, two men, who were 
thought to be connected with the establishment, were 
struck down in their efforts to save stock, by the fall 
of a portion of the side wall. One was totally buried, 
but the other was caught only by the legs. He shouted 
for succor, saying that if his legs were extricated he 
could get out easily. Several firemen responded by 
dashing into the doomed building, the front wall of 
which was even then tottering, and making frantic ef¬ 
forts to release the poor fellow. Suddenly they were 
startled by a cry that the massive front wall behind 
them was going over. There was a desperate rush for 
life, and a silent horror seized the spectators as the 
wall fell with a thundering crash and it seemed that 
two of the firemen had shared the fate of those whom 
they had so nobly tried to save. They were Farry and 
Cochran, and one of those whom they were attempting 
to rescue proved to be Connelly. The remains of all 
of them were afterward found in a state that admitted 
of their full identification, and funeral services of an 
affecting nature were held over them. 

Lewis C. Thompson was killed in the vicinity of 
Kingston street. He was a volunteer on a Worcester 
hose company, had but just reached the city, and was 
holding the pipe with two other men when a high wall 
fell, burying all three, but fortunately his companions 
were dug out, without serious injury. 


BOSTON. 


323 


Albert C. Abbott fell from a ladder, a distance of 
twenty-five feet, at the old post-office, about two o’clock 
on Sunday afternoon, and received injuries about the 
spine, from which death resulted. 

Outside the Department, several persons were more 
or less injured, and some were for days reported as 
missing. The above is believed to be the record of 
losses of life and of other casualties among those who 
were laboring strictly in the line of duty. 







CHAPTER XVIII. 


INCIDENTS AND PECULIARITIES. 


Individual Deeds of" Heroism.—The Thieves and Their Arresters.—A 
Case of Mistake, and Serious Turning of the Tables.—Efficiency of the 
City Police.—A Sudden AVarning Out.—An Unceremonious Ejectment. 
—A Hair-Breadth Escape.— Six Men Immured in a Store and Rescued 
from Burning at the Last Moment.—An Extemporized Team.—“ Shoot 
Him on the Spot! ”—What Two Women Did in Saving Goods.—The 
Services of a Faithful Domestic.—A Kind-hearted Teamster.—A 
Nervous, and Very Expensive Wife.—Hard Case of a Policeman.— 
Another of Over-caution and Over-confidence.—Distressing Accident 


and Death.—The Safe Openings—Despair, Hope, and Relief.— An 
Affecting Scene.—Cases of Coolness.—Taking it Humorously.—AVit in 
Misfortune.—Hysterical Grief of a Poor Girl.—A AYarm-hearted Irish 
AVoman’s Generous Offer.—A Case of Absent-Mindedness.—A Rector’s 
Efforts, and His Unfortunate Recognition.—A Noble-hearted AVoman. 
—AVorks of Art Destroyed.—A Picturesque Tableau.—Destruction of 
Costly Religious Ornaments.—Valuable Paintings and Artists’ Prop¬ 
erty Consumed.—The Trinity Church Treasures and Memorial Silver 
Saved.—The Scene at the Parker House.—The Phenomena of the Air.— 
Great Distance to which Material was Carried in its Upper Currents.— 
Quick AVork in School street.—Millions on the March.—Losses in 
Literature.—Losses in Philanthropy and in Education.—Destruction of 
Engine Hose.—Curiosities in Relics.—Leather Reduced to its Most 
Condensed Form.—Effect of Heat upon Paper. 


'HERE were scores of anecdotes, incidents, 
k J) deeds of daring, and events of a novel and 
peculiar character, connected Avith the fire. 
The humorous side of these is treated in the 
succeeding chapter. Of some of the other 
features a record is made in the present 
one, Avithout especial attempt at classification or 
system. 

Individual acts of heroism Avere frequent. Some 
of these are detailed elsewhere. Others have not 


( 324 ) 



BOSTON. 


325 


been generally made matter of record. Deeds of 
daring are so common at fires that they are accepted 
as a matter of course. One of these deserves to be 
mentioned, however. 

About nine o’clock on Sunday morning it was dis¬ 
covered that in a cellar of a building on the west side 
of Congress street there were three boilers in such a 
condition that they might be expected to explode at 
almost any moment. A fireman attached to a Boston 
engine stationed in the vicinity volunteered to go 
into the still burning ruins and turn off the steam. 
His comrades endeavored to dissuade him from such a 
perilous undertaking, but he was resolute, and insisted 
upon crawling into the fearful position in spite of their 
protests. Two streams from a steam-engine were 
turned full upon him, and his course was watched 
with the intensest anxiety. lie walked as cool'y to 
the spot as if he were taking a morning promenade, 
and in less time than it has taken to record the incident 
he had turned off the steam and thus averted the 
danger. It was impossible to learn his name or com¬ 
pany, as the latter had been withdrawn previous to 
the time that his brave deed was reported. 

Thefts could hardly have been otherwise than abun¬ 
dant. In the face of the fact that it was doubtful 
if the flames did not take much property lying about, 
should it be left undisturbed, the distinctions of mewn 
and tuum were greatly relaxed. In cases of deliberate, 
mischievous thieving the police were very active in 
efforts at obstruction and arrest. They filled the sta¬ 
tion houses to overflowing. They necessarily made 
many mistakes, and no person carrying about goods 
was safe from arrest. Very ludicrous errors of this 

kind were at times made, about which the parties who 

19 


326 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


were their victims themselves laughed heartily after¬ 
wards, and commended the vigilance of those who had 
intercepted them amid the general confusion. The 
city police saved an immense amount of property in 
this way, and it was promptly returned to its owners 
as fast as it could be identified. The state police is an 
organization that is less popular with the citizens gen¬ 
erally of Boston, and in one instance, certainly, it was 
made to appear that this estimation was not unmerited. 
The proprietors of a Devonshire street store hired a 
number of men, in addition to the work done by team¬ 
sters, to carry their wholesale clothing stock to a place 
of safety. One of these, loaded down with a bundle 
of twelve overcoats and sixteen pairs of trowsers, got 
through the crowd and a considerable distance towards 
his destination, when a state policeman overhauled 
him. He told his story, but without obtaining cre¬ 
dence, and was seized and hurried to the Tombs in not 
.the most delicate manner. lie succeeded, however, 
at the last moment, in raising a doubt as to whether 
he was a proper subject of capture, and was set at 
large again. The next morning, he went to look for 
his goods, which he had not been permitted to take 
with him. These, he was told, were at the rooms of 
the state police. This time he took the jDrecaution 
of having one of their owners with him. He found 
the bundle opened, and what coats were left, in a con¬ 
dition that indicated that they had been tried on to 
see if they would fit. The tables were now turned, 
and it appeared much more as if the arrestor than the 
arrested would prove to be of the thieving class. A 
search was insisted upon, and underneath the uni orms 
hanging about the room, one after another, missing 
articles were disclosed, which, with two exceptions, for 


BOSTON. 327 

which the state police were held responsible, were all 
recovered. 

The city police, as has been said, were universally 
trustworthy and efficient, and reflected great credit 
upon their personal fidelity and the discipline of their 
department. They did not stop for compliments in 
the tremendous amount of labor and responsibility 
that was upon their hands. A party of gentlemen in 
Franklin street were coolly viewing the progress of 
the flames opposite, from the interior of the basement 
of a store. They had locked themselves in to keep 
out the crov T d. Suddenly a crash was heard behind 
them, and a man jumped in. Gn his lips was a blood- 
chilling imprecation, followed by the injunction to leave 
instantly unless they were prepared to be the next in¬ 
stant in the nether regions. They did leave, but only 
just in time to see the roof fall directly over the place 
which they had vacated. 

While the flames were raging in the great wooden 
carriage bazaar on Federal street, an employe of that 
establishment rushed in to save property. A police¬ 
man close behind him witnessed the rash procedure. 
He stopped not an instant for eeremony, but followed, 
and, without a word of explanation, inserted his big 
fingers inside of the man's coat-collar, and lifted him 
out in a very lively manner. Not satisfied with this, 
he danced him along on tiptoe for some distance down 
the street. The victim’s blood rose, and he was about 
to eject a string of expletives in the face of the officer, 
when the walls of the building from which he had 
been thus unceremoniously removed fell with a crash. 
Quickly amending his contemplated remarks, he turned 
to the officer and exclaimed “ Thank you, sir.” 

Few things are more singular than the little appre¬ 
ciation that parties have of the risk they incur at such 


328 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


times. The most violent measures are necessary 
to arouse them when the clanger is really imminent. 
This made the closest guarding of the ruins for weeks 
after the fire a necessity. It was easy to obtain access 
before the system of military lines and passes was 
established, and there were many very narrow escapes. 
One of these was seen early in Water street, which 
proved a warning to a large crowd in the vicinity. 
People were climbing about unconcernedly amid the 
piles of rocks and other debris, thinking of nothing 
but the gratifying of the curiosity of the moment, 
when suddenly a cry of horror was heard. In an in- 
stant a wall, forty feet in height, fell with a crash right 
among the crowd, as it seemed. The w r all was com¬ 
posed of immense blocks of granite, and nobody knew 
how many were crushed under these. Almost as by 
miracle everybody escaped, though for a time two men 
were entirely invisible to those in the nearest vicinity. 
There were several converts to cautiousness before the 
fright thus caused was over. 

Six clerks in one of the large stores burnt early in 
the fire had the narrowest escape from being among 
its victims. They had remained later than the rest to 
arrange the goods in the basement. The porter, not 
knowing of their presence, went away and locked the 
outer door that was the last mode of egress from the 
store. The shutters had been all closed, so that they 
could not leave by the windows. They made light of 
their imprisonment at first, and talked about remain¬ 
ing over Sunday, if no friendly watchman should pass 
with whom they could communicate. By and by the 
alarm of fire was heard. It appeared to be in their 
vicinity, and they were desirous of seeing it, but in 
the noise and hurry nobody paid them any attention. 


BOSTON. 


329 

The flames seemed by the sounds to be really nearing 
them , at last; yet even then there appeared no occa¬ 
sion for serious alarm. But they came on with amaz¬ 
ing rapidity, and soon their roar was heard above the 
shouting. The clerks turned to one another with 
pale cheeks. Desperate efforts were made for release. 
Still nobody heeded them. The crowd had by this 
time passed beyond, and nothing but the fire and the 
firemen were about them. They shouted and pounded, 
and threw themselves together with all their combined 
force against the door to break it down. Not the 
slightest impression was made. Hope seemed to aban¬ 
don them. The stories above were actually on fire; 
yet everybody outside seemed as oblivious of their 
presence as if they had neither bodies nor voices. 
Suddenly, when they were in the last agonies, as it 
were, of baffled and fruitless effort, the door was burst 
open by the firemen in pursuit of their own purposes. 
The appalled clerks rushed by them without pausing 
for explanation, and breathed the air outside with 
a sensation of relief that only those who have faced 
death amid such terrible threatenings can fitly appre¬ 
ciate. 

The instances of effort in the saving of goods were 
innumerable. A few may serve as specimens. A store 
on Broad street was threatened, both the proprietors 
of which were out of town. The book-keeper of the 
establishment lived in the city, and repaired to the 
scene. He appreciated fully the value of the books 
of the concern and the other contents of the safe, and 
saw their danger. But time was pressing. He could 
not convey them alone, and nobody would aid him. 
He offered money for horses, for handcarts, for wheel¬ 
barrows even—all without avail. At his wits’ end, and 


330 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


desperate, he found a buggy that had been dragged 
outside the fire limits for its preservation. Instantly 
he put himself between its shafts, and started for the 
store. Scarcely a moment was left him on reaching it, 
but he rushed for the safe, and carried, one by one, 
every article of value in it to the buggy, took his 
place as an extemporized beast of burden again, and 
dragged the property over a mile to a place of safety. 
Then he quietly trundled his vehicle to the nearest 
stable, and gave directions for an advertisement to find 
its owner. 

It was difficult at all times to know who were 
thieves and who were not. Some instances were 
sufficiently apparent to leave no doubt on this point. 
A proprietor of a millinery store on Washington street 
found his premises occupied by pilferers who disre¬ 
garded his presence altogether. He ordered them to 
leave. They swore and laughed at him. One man 
seized a box of his most costly velvets. "Put that 
down! ” roared the owner. The fellow rushed right by 
him and made for the door. “ Put that down ! ” now 
fairly yelled he. The only response was to move the 
quicker. He then took a pistol from his pocket, and 
its report rang through the premises. The box was 
dropped, as if a bullet had taken effect in a vital part 
of the man who was purloining it. A general rush 
was made for the door by the rest. The proprietor 
then coolly placed himself at the entrance, and pro¬ 
claimed the “ shoot him on the spot ” law as to be en¬ 
forced on all future comers. He saved further trouble, 
and neither his stock nor his store was burnt. 

A large portion of one of the costliest stocks on 
Washington street was saved through the agency of 
two girls employed in the establishment. The owner 


BOSTON. 


331 


was absent from the city. The girls lived three miles 
in the suburbs. They saw the immense light and di¬ 
vined the danger. Reaching the store an hour or two 
before the fire had spread to that quarter, they made 
arrangements for a place to which to transport the 
goods, and, with the assistance of one or two friends, 
carried them there, piece by piece. The head of the 
store, when he came into town on Monday, expecting 
to behold utter ruin, was gladdened by the sight of his 
more valuable goods, to the amount of twenty thou¬ 
sand dollars, removed in good condition, and was able 
to continue his business as usual the next day. Sur¬ 
prises of this character were not infrequent, from acci¬ 
dent, in keys being left with parties who had unex¬ 
pected access to stores, or from thoughtfulness and 
fidelity on the part of persons employed. They were 
generally confined, however, to the saving of accounts 
and the contents of safes. So much accomplished by 
the direct efforts of women was perhaps as remarkable 
as anything seen at the fire. 

A cook in one of the west end families took the re¬ 
sponsibility of extra effort in a similar way. She 
knew of the existence of valuable pictures and souve¬ 
nirs stored in a building in Milk street. With an in¬ 
tense feeling of sympathy for the loss which these 
must involve to the family she served, she determined 
upon an effort for their rescue. Obeying the first im¬ 
pulse, she rushed into the street for a teamster. In 
the beginning, none heeded her. At last she found 
one whom she recognized. To him she made a piteous 
appeal. With streaming eyes she depicted the extent 
of the loss which the burning of the articles must 
bring to the family, and finally persuaded him to take 
her across the city to this spot. Fortunately they ar- 


332 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


rived in season. The room was entered, and three- 
quarters of its contents were rescued before the earnest 
workers were ordered away by those who came to ex¬ 
plode the building. 

Another kind hearted teamster, Mr. Millmore, of 
Somerville, whose name should go on record in this 
connection, refused the* most tempting offers from 
merchants and others, and worked free of charge in 
the removal of the effects of a poor widow who ap¬ 
pealed to him. The extent of his sacrifice may be 
estimated when it is remembered that fifty dollars a 
load was generally paid, a hundred dollars often offered, 
and in some cases even five hundred was named as a 
temptation by those who were in desperate straits to 
save their more indispensable articles. 

There were those who were much less fortunate. 
One gentleman saw the fire from the Back Bay re¬ 
gion of the city, felt convinced that his store was in 
danger, and repeatedly made a resolution to repair 
to the scene. The nervousness of his wfife, who 
dreaded the accidents of the fire, every time restrained 
him. His store was burned, and everything of value 
in it annihilated. The next morning, he estimated 
that his wife’s excessive timidity had been a money 
loss to him of one hundred thousand dollars. 

One of the Police Lieutenants had effected a saving 
of ten thousand dollars from his salary by many years 
of economy. He had deposited this in government 
bonds in one of the banks. When the safe that con¬ 
tained it fell two stories to the cellar, it struck a stone 
that burst a hole in it, and admitted the flames, which 
consumed in an instant all this man’s property. 

A gentleman who occupied, with.his family, rooms 
on Summer street, near Washington street, removed 


BOSTON. 


333 


every article of his household effects to the Common 
on Saturday night. The flames were stopped before 
they reached this point, and the following Sunday he 
occupied himself with restoring his property. By 
night he had everything back, though of course in the 
utmost confusion. The family went to sleep, overcome 
with weariness. At midnight they were awakened by 
the alarm of the second fire, and had scarcely time to 
hurry on their clothing and escape from its fury. 
Everything that so much pains had been taken to 
save had been returned only to devote it to destruc¬ 
tion. There was a peculiar sadness in this experience. 

There were several distressing incidents in connec¬ 
tion with this second fire. In the house in which it 
occurred an aged mother and her daughter were re¬ 
siding. The daughter, in a frenzy of terror, jumped 
from the second story window to the sidewalk, and 
was severely bruised. The mother perished in the 
flames before she could be reached. Another woman 
in the neighborhood appeared at a fourth-story window 
with an infant in her arms, and was with much diffi¬ 
culty prevented from jumping until she could be res¬ 
cued from her perilous position. 

An amount of precious articles of private property 
was destroyed in the safes, of which it is probable no 
adequate estimate will ever be made. A large portion 
of the safes preserved these deposits; many others 
were opened and they were found consumed altogether. 
In one instance twenty thousand dollars in bonds—- 
the entire property of an aged gentleman—were sev¬ 
eral days in a safe before it could be taken from the 
fire. When the safe was opened, the bonds were found 
to be apparently charred to tinder. The owner went 
home with the belief that he was beggared. It was 



334 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


found later, however, that they could be readily read, 
and they were finally restored so as to be of their full 
value. The excesses of feeling from doubt to despair, 
and afterwards to hope, and again to full relief, which 
this aged man, who had his comfort or his dependence 
for the future balancing upon the result of these devel¬ 
opments, may be imagined. 

Another case was that of a merchant who was 
burned out, and had saved a large property by many 
years’ prudence and industry, most of it in the form 
of government bonds. These bonds were deposited 
in his safe, and the morning after the fire there they 
lay beneath glowing ruins almost too hot for a sala¬ 
mander. Before him he saw what was left of the 
earnings of a life time—thousands upon thousand 
of dollars—buried in the red-hot debris. His hopes 
rose and fell. By-and by the safe was reached and 
dragged forth at almost melting heat. He looked at 
the grim monster as it spit out fire and smoke until 
the water cooled its burning breath. Then he 
laughed, and again he cried. Anon he trembled from 
head to foot. Then he told the workmen to open it, 
and then again to hold on. He laughed—he wept. 
How much was thronging that mind, filling that 
beating, aching heart! “Now open,” he would say. 
“No, not quite yet. I cannot bear it. Hold on a 
moment—now—no.” So he went on excitedly until, 
gathering himself up, he said, “Now, now!” The 
safe door rolled back upon its still hot hinges, and 
all was safe and good. Human nature could bear 
no more—for joy he fainted, and fell to the earth. 

There were cases enough of coolness, too. One 
merchant presented himself before a court in which 
he was serving as a juror, and asked, in a business- 




BOSTON. 


335 


like way, to be excused. “On what grounds?” 
inquired the judge. “ Because I have lost two hund¬ 
red thousand dollars by the fire,” was the response. 
The judge granted his request, and he walked as 
imperturbably out of the court as he had entered it. 
Messrs. Wright & Potter, the state printers, rich men 
the day before the fire, poor ones the day after, 
stood over the ruins of their office, while the junior 
partner inquired if it was thought the burnt out safe 
would answer for a refrigerator. Among the first signs 
put up in the burnt district were two which read, 
“ Removed because of intense heat,” and another, 
“ Up and dressed.” “ Whoever says this is a store is 
a Liar and a Villain! ” was the inscription on a 
blackened dry goods box which marked the site of 
one of the large Summer street wholesale houses. 
“ Two live sparks from this ember may be found at 
No.-,” was the way in which enterprising mem¬ 

bers of a firm on the same street gave notice of their 
removal. “ What a pity about these six barrels of 
apples!” said one partner to another. This firm, it 
appears, had drummers in New Hampshire, who 
thought they were getting bargains in buying apples 
cheap, and had sent them to be roasted in the great 
conflagration. 

These jokes no doubt came from the surface of 
hearts that ached sorely at the bottom; but they 
were far better than hysterical grief, or unmanly 
abandonment of spirit and energy. The general 
resolution was not to tolerate croaking in any form. 
One merchant, whose loss was a hundred thousand 
dollars, ordered a man out of his store because he 
gave way to whining. 

There was genuine sympathy and sorrow, however, 



FIGHTING FIRE. 


336 # 

for the more completely destitute sufferers. A young 
girl who was seen to throw up her hands and utter 
a hysterical shriek of agony as the building took fire 
in which was the sewing-machine that was her only 
capital in trade, and to her conception alone stood 
between herself and destitution, was a type of a large 
class of those whom the fire sadly affected. Individ¬ 
ual instances of this character were sought out, and 
relief was ready for them in many quarters. Girls of 
the poorer class were themselves among the most 
liberal in proffers of aid, when they had means left 
them of even a limited amount. One servant-girl, 
who had lived in a family of the city, wrote from her 
present home, hundreds of miles away, after hearing 
vivid accounts of the losses her former employers had 
met with, to tell them that she had two hundred 
dollars in the Savings’ Bank, which she begged, with 
all the impulsive earnestness of a warm Irish heart, 
that they would accept. Fortunately, in this case, 
the straits of the family were much less than they' 
had been reported. 

Strange things, it may be supposed, were done 
amid the excitements of the evening of the fire. 
One man took out all the contents of his safe, in the 
greatest flurry of agitation, and next looked round for 
other articles that could be readily rescued. He 
pounced upon an umbrella, a small mirror, and a few 
articles of similar value that were lying around loose, 
and in his solicitude to preserve these went off and 
forgot his books and papers from the safe altogether, 
and never thought of his omission till he had reached 
home, by which time his store was in full blaze. 
Another stood on the top of his building and dealt 
out money to those who were working to save it, 


boston. 337 

till lie had depleted his purse to the amount of two 
hundred dollars. 

The cases of men being mistaken for robbers in 
their own stores, and arrested as thieves while carry¬ 
ing away their own property, were quite frequent, 
and have been often since laughed over by those 
who so suffered. An instance something like this 
was furnished in the experience of a rector of a 
church just out of the city. He came in bent on 
assisting, and addressed himself to the work in the 
most thoroughly practical way. After laboring with 
an engine company for twelve hours, narrowly escap¬ 
ing from serious accident, and finding the Sabbath 
dawn upon him with a frame nearly exhausted, he 
was induced to seek some refreshment. Attempting 
to return, the police officers looked suspiciously at 
him, and denied his application to pass. He told his 
experience, and his purpose. The policemen were 
not so easily persuaded. They charged him outright 
with being one of the worst bummers of the night 
previous. The rector sent for somebody to vouch for 
him, for he feared, if things went on in this way, the 
next step would be his arrest and delivery into the 
hands of the keepers of the station-house. His fore¬ 
bodings were not ill-founded. His friends arrived 
just in time to prevent his being fully identified as a 
man who was seen to steal three bottles of whiskey 
from a neighboring liquor store. 

A noble-hearted lady of New York city—Mrs. 
Elizabeth Thompson—was one of the severest suf¬ 
ferers by the fire. She derived her income from the 
estate of her deceased husband, whose property con¬ 
sisted of business blocks, nearly all of which were 
located in the burnt district, and in twenty-four hours 


338 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


found herself reduced from opulence to comparative 
penury. A sympathetic friend expressed his regret 
that she had given so much as to have allowed 
nothing to accumulate from her large income. “I 
am glad of it,” she replied; “ I am glad I gave it 
while I had it; I only regret the loss because it will 
deprive me of the power to keep on giving.” On the 
first receipt of the news of the calamity, and of the 
fact that the families of some old tenants were over¬ 
whelmed in their misfortunes, Mrs. Thompson, with 
characteristic humanity, and without waiting to dis¬ 
cover the extent of her own losses, sent on an order 
to distribute among them the whole of her available 
funds, amounting to some two thousand dollars, and 
promising them all the assistance in her power. This 
lady, despite her enfeebled state of health, went at 
once to Boston to ascertain for herself the condition 
of these tenants, and to learn if anything could be 
saved from the destruction. She had been before 
noted for her gifts to libraries, reading-rooms, and 
colleges. 

The amount of valuable property lost in works of 
literature, art, and vertu , will never be known. 
There was a fatality, as it seemed, in the extent to 
which such priceless collections were stored in the 
district. Nobody suspected the fact, till it was 
developed by knowledge that came from those who 
owned these treasures. There were collections of 
books insured for many thousand dollars, but which 
no possible insurance could replace; there were 
printings and statues also found to have been in the 
most unlikely places. The explanation was in the 
fact that their owners were either abroad or in 
transit temporarily, and had placed these articles 


BOSTON. 


339 

where they were because loft-room was furnished, 
and it was supposed they would be safer than in 
dwelling-houses. Among the most conspicuous of 
the articles of rarity and of aesthetic value thus sacri¬ 
ficed was the collection of medieval armor made by 
the late Colonel T. Bigelow Lawrence. This was in 
a chamber in Milk street, and furnished an impressive 
spectacle to thousands of wondering spectators as its 
figures in mail suddenly appeared upon their vision 
in a spot of the most prosaic associations. Seen from 
a little distance, it was as if a body of knights were 
advancing armed, cap-a-pie, upon the beholders. Anon 
everything was ablaze in the universal glare of light, 
and the devoted figures stood motionless like statues 
to meet their fate from the all-enveloping flames. 
These wrapped them into ruin in a very brief space 
of time, and the clang of metal riveted and welded 
hundreds of years since mingled its sound with the 
crash of the fallen masonry into which it was toppled 
in one confused heap of common destruction. 

While the flames were whirling and leaping along 
the south side of Franklin street, the proprietors and 
employes of the great Catholic publishing establish¬ 
ment, the Pilot building, made extraordinary efforts to 
save their stock. But the. fire ran so swiftly that 
they were compelled to relinquish all idea of transport¬ 
ing their goods to a place of safety, and one hundred and 
twenty-five thousand dollars worth of costly altar ser¬ 
vices, priestly ornaments, sacramental vessels, cruci¬ 
fixes, representing the pomp and glory of the Catholic 
Church, were hurled into the streets, or given into the 
hands of the hundreds who thronged to take them and 
were begged to carry them away and keep them rather 
than see them sacrificed. Huge collections of books, 


340 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


costly editions of imported works, were heaped upon 
the holocaust. Then the losers ran for their lives, and a 
great sheet of flame swept over the huge block and 
licked up with its fiery tongues half a million dollars’ 
worth of costly printing material and objects of re¬ 
ligious art. 

Mr. Parkes, a restorer of oil paintings, had on hand 
a considerable collection, sent to him from different 
parts of the country for the exercise of his skill. Of 
these there was a very valuable series of old family por¬ 
traits, belonging to a gentleman of Boston, reported 
to be by Sir Peter Lely, Copley, Blackburn, and other 
eminent artists, of much intrinsic excellence as 
works of art, and invaluable from their rarity. There 
were also several church pictures, among them some 
fine originals, and one known to have been painted 
by Paul Veronese, and two altar pieces, for which two 
thousand pounds had been offered in England and re¬ 
fused. Mr. Moses Wight, one of the most eminent of 
Boston artists, lost all his models, his sketches and 
drawings, the collection of many years. Mr. Hunt, 
another painter of national reputation, was utterly 
stripped of everything of value to him in the line of 
his profession. These losses occurred in the Summer 
street region of the fire, in which were several artists’ 
studios. The elegantly bound Bible of Trinity Church 
was spared by a stranger in this vicinity, who rushed 
in and took it from the desk. Beneath the sidewalk 
in Summer street was a brick vault, fifteen feet long, 
ten feet wide and ten feet deep, which contained be¬ 
tween seventy-five thousand and one hundred thou¬ 
sand dollars’ worth of silver, including the altar service 
belonging to Trinity Church, a portion of the sacra¬ 
mental silver of the Brattle Square Church, a service 


BOSTON. 


341 


of silver presented to Col. William Aspinwall by the 
merchants of London, a pitcher presented by Daniel 
Webster to Peter Harvey, and other mementoes, be¬ 
sides silver ware belonging to the firm. The goods 
were placed there after the fire was got under on 
Sunday, the vault being considered the most secure 
place in the neighborhood. When the building was 
blown down by the explosion of gas, at least 200 tons 
of granite were piled upon the top of the vault, but 
on opening it the sacramental silver, presented to the 
Trinity Church by King George III., the Brattle 
Square Church service of date of 1784, and the Daniel 
Webster silver ware, were brought forth in good order. 
In some parts of the vault exposed to the hottest of 
the fire the articles were melted. 

The Parker House, with which every person who 
has ever sojourned in Boston is familiar, was con¬ 
stantly threatened on the night of the first portion of 
the fire. It is an immense marble front building on 
School street. Opposite it is the City Hall, a still 
larger edifice, and the most elegant and costly in 
Boston. Extensive preparations were made to save 
the latter by explosions. The Parker House was for 
hours in a state of confusion that beggars description. 
The Transcript building, on a line with it south¬ 
easterly, was on fire, and the Marlboro Hotel, from 
which it was to be approached further south, was also 
reported as attacked. Every room was visited and 
the occupants admonished to have their baggage 

removed, and be ready to vacate on a moment’s 

' « 

notice. Trunks and boxes were carried away, and all 
the hacks were in constant motion, carrying boarders 
away to safer quarters. The BudersdorfF concert 
troupe occupied rooms in the house, and Madame 

20 


342 * 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Rudersdorff, Mcllle. Liebe, and Miss Fairman, had their 
trunks and boxes, containing their valuable wardrobes, 
jewels, and music, removed to Temple street for safety. 
The house was thrown open to the firemen and all 
the workers who needed refreshment. 

This building and many others were saved only 
from the absence of a strong current of wind, except in 
the immediate presence of the fire. The officers of 
the United States Signal Service report that during 
the fire the wind varied from northwest to north with 
a, velocity of from five to nine miles per hour. On 
the south or lee side the induced currents of air were 
probably thirty or thirty-five miles per hour, carrying 
the fire bodily to windward. This state of affairs 
appears the reverse of the Chicago fire, where the 
strength of the wind was sufficient to overcome the 
induced currents, and the fire burned to leeward. It 
would seem that the high wind permitted the in¬ 
draught to rise at a considerable angle after reaching 
the fire, and leaving a large space of rarefied air in 
its front, inducing stronger currents to flow, which, on 
meeting the in-draught, gave the spiral or whirlwind 
form to the ascending current. During the fire a 
flock of ducks passed at great height overhead, and 
the light reflected from their plumage made them ap¬ 
pear as fire-balls passing rapidly through the air. A 
thermometer, two thousand feet from the fire, rose five 
degrees. In the upper currents, however, the air car¬ 
ried the materials from the fire to immense distances. 
Cinders, pieces of newspapers, bills, dry goods, etc., 
were found in Hingham and adjoining towns; and 
even as far as West Scituate—twenty miles from Bos¬ 
ton—pieces of charred goods, silks and 'woolens, news¬ 
papers, freight bills, etc., were found in the roads and 



BOSTON. 


343 


fields, and at one time on Saturday night, looking 
from South Hingham toward Boston, the air seemed 
full of cinders. At West Scituate a government bond 
was found, the edges of which had been burned, and 
in the adjoining twon of Hingham a fragment of a 
ten dollar bill was picked up, as well as leaves of 
hymn-books, bibles, etc. Although on Saturday and 
Sunday nights the moon was shining brightly, the 
flames and smoke could be seen as far as South Scituate, 
twenty-four miles from the city. 

There was quick work in other places than the Parker 
House in School street, when the fire reached its near¬ 
est point to this, and the street was palpably threatened. 
The officers of the Five Cents’ Savings Bank, which 
is about midway in the street, were notified by the 
Mayor that in pursuance of the plan of operations 
adopted it might soon be necessary to blow up their 
bank building in order to save the City Hall. In 
forty minutes the money and securities in the vaults 
of the bank, amounting in value to eleven million 
dollars, were removed to the house of the President, 
a half mile distant, and there guarded by a squad of 
police. The next afternoon the money and securities 
were returned to the bank vaults, and the business of 
the bank went on as usual on Monday. This prompt¬ 
ness and confidence, and the action of the Emigrant 
Savings Bank, effectually prevented any run on- 
these institutions. The parlor of another bank presi¬ 
dent contained two million dollars in value of 
bonds, money, and certificates, through all the same 
Sunday. 

The amount of property thus removed was prob¬ 
ably not much less in value than was that con¬ 
sumed. One house alone, that of Jordan, Marsh & 


344 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Co., transported to different parts of the city stock 
which was estimated to he worth a million dollars. 
The whole business region to the west of the fire, and 
a large portion to the north, were subject to this gen¬ 
eral overturn and transportation. Horse-cars were 
chartered and sent south, loaded down with the more 
precious articles of freight. The bank vaults of State 
street were visited; the Sub-Treasury was emptied 
early; millions upon millions were stored in un¬ 
wonted and unsuspected quarters. Never was a tithe 
of the same amount of property so wildly on the wing 
or so eccentrically deposited. 

Some of the merchants who had stores outside the 
fire district lost by the temporary presence of goods 
within its limits. The book trade suffered badly in 
this way. Messrs. Lee & Shepard had plates, paper, 
and printing destroyed to the value of fifty thousand 
dollars; Messrs. James R. Osgood & Co. lost their en¬ 
tire collection of steel plates, which had been for years 
accumulating, and which will require the labor of 
added years to make good. One dry goods house 
had over a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of goods 
burned that would have been safe had they reached 
their retail counters. 

The institutions of learning were heavy losers by 
the fire. Harvard University was deprived of an in¬ 
come of forty thousand dollars from stores which had 
been willed to it by parties that the rents might prove 
a source of income. The Boston College and Metho¬ 
dist Theological Seminary had the fee in several de¬ 
stroyed stores and warehouses belonging to the Isaac 
Rich property, which was bequeathed to these institu¬ 
tions. The bequest amounted to about a million dol¬ 
lars, a quarter of which was lost. Tufts College suf- 


MILITIA RELIEVING GUARD NEAR RUINS OF PURCHASE STREET CHURCH. 












































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































BOSTON. 


347 


fered the comparatively small loss of eight thousand 
dollars. The John Simmons estate was perhaps the 
heaviest loser of all. This property had been be¬ 
queathed largely for the purpose of founding a wo¬ 
man’s college, which was to receive benefit when it 
should have accumulated to a given amount. That 
day was largely deferred by this heavy blow. It is 
probable, however, that in all the above cases there 
will be a considerable compensation in the enhanced 
value of the land. 

This fire did not differ from most others in the want 
of reliability in the hose used upon the steam fire en¬ 
gines. This was constantly bursting, and the streets 

ran evervwliere with streams of water thus let loose. 

*/ 

The firemen pressed so close to the burning buildings 
that hose was frequently abandoned of necessity to the 
flames. It is estimated that thirty thousand feet were 
lost in this way. One engine fought till her gauge- 
glass was broken, and the walls behind her had fallen 
and buried all her suction hose together. In the im¬ 
mediate vicinity of this, which faced a street running 
west, a huge block of granite was thrown directly up 
its centre a hundred feet in a direct line. 

The curiosities from the ruins of the fire were 
eagerly sought for weeks after the fire had been sup¬ 
pressed. These differed not materially from similar 
relics with which other conflagrations have made the 
people familiar. In the leather region some of the 
sights were peculiar. In one store, as a specimen of 
these, there appeared a collection of brown rough¬ 
looking chunks about the size of a man’s head, which 
presented a considerable resemblance, outwardly, to 
exaggerated lumps of spruce gum. A sharp blow 
from a hammer or brick would break one of these 


348 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


lumps in two, when the inside would be seen to be a 
dark red veined with lighter streaks; breaking with a 
smooth, clear, and polished fracture, and capable of 
being subdivided in almost any direction. The pieces 
broke very much as cannel coal does, and but for their 
color might be thought some variety of that article. 
A close examination, and especially the smell, re¬ 
vealed the true character of these singular presenta¬ 
tions. They were sole-leather. Each lump repre¬ 
sented a pile of several hundred sides condensed in 
compass and fused into a solid mass. 

It was a fact generally noticed that in the contents 
of safes that were examined after the fire, what 
paper makers called poor paper, or paper considerably 
“clayed,” stood the best test. Parchment paper, used 
for bonds and legal documents, shrivelled up badty, 
and the print blistered so that it could be read when 
writing was illegible. So it was with engraved work 
on notes. The gilding on account books, burned and 
charred, showed out as bright and clear as when the 
books were new, which suggests perhaps that gilt- 
edged account books would be desirable, on the ground 
that the gilt would stay the damage by fire of the 
pages within. Books crammed into a safe so that it 
was difficult to get them out, suffered considerably less 
than those that were set in loosely, and in some cases 
came out from safes, in which everything else was 
worthless, so far preserved that the figures on their 
pages could be deciphered. 


CHAPTER XIX. 
HUMORS OP THE FIRE. 


Unwelcome Assistance.—Boots and Shoes Very Cheap.—Looking a Gift 
Horse in the Mouth.—Great Cry and Little Wool.—Lost, Saved, and 
Lost Again.—The Danger of Counting Chickens Before they are 
Hatched.—A Harrowing Scene.—Where is Clara?—A Sad Cat¬ 
astrophe.—An Envious Chicagoan.—Boston Outdone.—Too Small to 
Have a Really Big Fire.—A Bundle and a Man.—Division of Labor.— 
Law and Equity.—A Bottle Trick, and a Fearful “ Splosion.”—A Fall 
in Glass.—Sodom and Gomorrah.—A Practical Exemplification of 
Predestination.—The Evils of Curiosity.—A Stolen Box Gets its Pur- 
loiner into a Bad Box.—Phosphorus Cannot be Carried in the Panta¬ 
loons’ Pocket with Comfort.—Jehu Outwitted.—The Folly of Not 
Doing a Cash Business.—A Polite Coachman, and a Fare Anxious to 
be Arrested.—Fifty Cents versus Forty Dollars.—Ireland at the Fire. 
—Condolers Doomed to Hotter Flames than Any that Raged at the 
Fire.—Good Advice Thrown Away.—A Well-meaning Man Put Out, 
instead of the Fire.—Some Things that were Saved.—Others that were 
Not.—The Soldiers at the Barricades.—The “Sojer” Coat.—Napo¬ 
leon’s Old Guard.—Euchred.—Droll Inscriptions.' 


N account of the fire would not be com¬ 
plete without some reference to the 
humorous incidents connected with it. 
There were many, more in fact than we 
have the space to chronicle, and more 
than the reader would have the patience 
to wade through. We shall therefore cull a few of 

( 349 ) 



350 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the more striking and amusing. The conflagration 
had been raging for two or three hours before people 
began to realize the possibility of its creating such 
havoc as eventually resulted. All was excitement for 
this space of time; there was no leisure for thought; 
every energy w r as strained to limit its progress, and 
the most intense anxiety prevailed among the stu¬ 
pendous crowds that idly gazed at its ravages. But 
as soon as it became evident that there was no hope 
of stopping it the multitude began to settle down to 
the inevitable state of affairs that threatened, and the 
prodigious excitement r that hitherto prevailed sub¬ 
sided down into a species of stolid curiosity. The 
fire itself became monotonous. It was the same 
thing over and over again for sixteen hours or more. 
Attention at length was easily directed from it by any 
incident that varied the painful sameness. As is 
usual in all large crowds, a coarse species of wit broke 
forth upon the slightest provocation, and there was 
an unaccountable expression of satisfaction at any 
mishap to one of their number. The firemen were 
greatly embarrassed by the manner in which the mob 
pressed upon them, and many very amusing incidents 
occurred in this connection. One of theta we will 
relate. 

A gentleman, attracted by curiosity, stood on the 
corner of a street watching the advance of the flames. 
He was some three or four blocks from the fire, and 
was almost alone. As the destruction spread towards 
him the crowd pressed back with it, and soon, en¬ 
meshed him in its folds. In his efforts to get away he 
was hustled about until in the course of his struggles 
he suddenly found himself in the front rank of the 
immense mass of people, with no apparent means of 


BOSTON. 


351 


getting away. To get through was almost impossible, 
and one glance showing him the difficulty he would 
have to encounter, he concluded not to attempt it, 
and made the most of the favorable position into 
which he had been unwillingly forced. He was a 
very quiet and staid-looking gentleman, of middle 
age, and respectably dressed, and evidently of the 
better class of society. By and by he became quite 
absorbed in gazing at the rapid advance of the fire, 
and did not observe that the firemen were close upon 
him. In a moment or two they began to shout to the 
crowd to move back, but without creating the desired 
effect. They then began to elbow those in the front 
rank, and the mass of people swayed backward. Our 
gentleman happened to be opposite a fireman who, 
with hose in hand, was fighting the flames. u Move 
back, will you ? ” he shouted, angrily. “ But I can’t! ” 
mildly expostulated the gentleman, looking about 
him with a glance of despair, and trying to elbow his 
way to the rear. “ Move back! ” reiterated the fire¬ 
man, as though this perplexed individual were the 
only obstacle in his way. “My dear sir,” remon¬ 
strated the gentleman, with anguish in his voice, and 
in a manner of great politeness, “I would if I could, 
but I can’t. They won’t let me. It isn’t my fault that 
I am here. They forced me to the front.” “I can’t 
help that! Are you going to move back?” shouted 
the excited fireman, uninfluenced by the piteous 
look of helplessness the other cast at him. “But how 
can I ? ” cried the other in a melancholy voice, and 
pointing appealingly towards the crowd behind him. 
“You see, I just came out to see the fire, and I assure 
you, on my honor”— “0, get out! ” exclaimed the 

now irate fighter of flames, turning his hose full in 


352 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the poor man’s face and deluging him with water. a I 
ain’t got no time to gas with you! ” 

A yell of delight went up from the crowd as they 
saw the victim of intolerance dripping from head to 
foot, and running along the front of the line as limp 
as a wet* rag. Ilis breath was taken away by the sud¬ 
denness of the attack and the coldness of the water, 
and before he could recover he was seized by two or 
three fellows who pitied his misfortune, lifted aloft 
and passed over the heads of the mob, kicking, 
shouting and struggling, but in vain. It was the 
original intention that he should be thus carried 
to the rear, but the crowd decreed otherwise, and 
transferred him to and fro from hand to hand along 
the line, and back again, he struggling and shouting 
as he made his unwilling way over their heads, until 
at length they became tired of their sport and tossed 
him into a wagon laden with dry goods rescued from 
the fire, that happened to' be passing at the time. 

When the fire got into Pearl street among the boot 
and shoe dealers, a number of exceedingly funny 
events occurred. Some of the dealers broke open 
boxes and threw their contents into the street, think¬ 
ing that the crowd had a better claim to the wares 
than the fire. As the boots and shoes were pitched 
out in the road, the mob scrambled for them, tear¬ 
ing them from each other’s grasp, rolling over and 
over in the mud in their eagerness to seize upon 
them, fighting, scuffling, swearing, and shouting, some 
with anger, some with laughter. Those who were so 
fortunate as to capture a prize here hastily bore it 
away. Others deliberately sat on the curb-stone, took 
off their old boots and donned new ones. Little boys 
were to be seen with boots on their feet several sizes 


BOSTON. 


353 


too large for them. Even some of the firemen ceased 
their labors to change their boots. Policemen were 
not exempt from the weakness of capturing a new 
outfit for their feet. Many people were arrested with 
boots in their hands and under their arms, and locked 
up in the station-houses as thieves. One brawny 
policeman seized a little boy who had an armful of 
boots and shoes with which he was hastily making his 
way home. The youngster, full of fear, began to ex¬ 
plain that he had received permission to take them, 
but the representative of the law mercilessly wrested 
the prizes from the boy and sent him about his busi¬ 
ness, with the threat that he would lock him up if he 
did not quickly disappear. The boy needed no 
second warning, but scampered off as fast as his legs 
could carry him. The policeman, after walking a few 
paces, deliberately sat on a door-step and pulled on a 
pair of these captured boots—perhaps because he 
found it easier to carry them in this way. Some of 
the crowd got into boots too small for them, and were 
to be seen tugging at them to get them off. Others 
got them half-way on and stamped about in them, 
unable to move them on or off For days after, it 
was observable how many policemen, firemen, and 
newsboys were newly shod. One dealer handed a 
fellow a pair of boots, saying, “You might as well 
have these.” The other took them, examined them, 
eyed them critically, and then said to the giver, 
“ You haven’t got a pair of slim sevens in French calf¬ 
skin, have you?” What the answer was we have 
not learned, as an explosion some blocks off drowned 
the response. 

One of the most humorous occurrences in connec¬ 
tion with the fire was that we are about to narrate. 



354 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Two young men liad lately entered into partnership 
in the wool business, and had a place on Federal 
street. They had but two bales of wool, but it repre¬ 
sented a great deal of money to the young firm. 
They watched the fire with eager eyes, until they 
saw it was inevitable that it must reach the place 
where their wool was stored. They had no means of 
removing it, as it was too heavy for either or both 
of them to take away, and getting help in such a con¬ 
fusion as then reigned was out of the question. How¬ 
ever, they determined to make one effort, and hurried 
to the store where it was in keeping. To their great 
surprise, the door was open. They groped their way 
in the dark, and suddenly heard voices speaking in a 
whisper. They could see nothing. Everything was in 
a pitchy gloom. They crept along, and presently 
stumbled against an empty box, making a noise. 
“Hallo, Jim,” whispered,somebody. “Is that you? ” 
“Yes! ” returned one of the young men, putting his 
hand over his friend’s mouth and giving him a touch 
on the breast, intended as a caution to preserve 
silence. “ What kept you so ? ” inquired the first 
speaker, still in an undertone. “The crowd,” replied 
the other, speaking in a low whisper, in order that his 
voice might not be recognized. As his eyes became 
accustomed to the gloom, he saw two men working 
by the dim light of a dark lantern, cutting the bales 
of wool in two in order to lighten their weight. They 
were two forbidding looking louts, evidently bent on 
plunder. When they had divided the bales one of 
them spoke again: “Now, one of you go out and see 
if the road is clear, and we’ll take this around to 
Maguire’s, in Congress street, and divide afterwards. 
It will be safe there. But first lend a hand.” The 


BOSTON. 


355 


young men, keeping as mucli in the shadow as possi¬ 
ble, helped the robbers with the wool to the entry, 
and then went forth on the pretence of seeing if the 
road was clear^ the signal to be a whistle. The 
whistle was given, and in a moment or two the fel¬ 
lows came forth with the wool on their shoulders and 
trotted off with all the zealous energy of men doing a 
virtuous action for their employers. They returned 
in a few moments and took the remainder. The 
owners of the wool chuckled at having their property 
saved, for, owing to the weight of the bales, they could 
never have moved them. They followed the fellows, 
saw them take the wool into a low drinking saloon on 
Congress street, and watched till they came forth 
again and went off, probably in quest of more plunder. 
After waiting a few moments, the young men thought 
of a clever device to recover their wool. They 
remembered a place on Lindall street where they 
could store it. Summoning up courage and making 
themselves look as rough as possible, they went boldly 
in and demanded the wool, that their comrades left 
there a few moments ago, which they were to remove to 
a place unsuspected by the police. Strangely enough, 
it was given up without question. The young men 
took it to the place on Lindall street, locked it up, 
and sallied forth full of glee that they had saved their 
wool from both fire and thieves, and were some hun¬ 
dreds of dollars better off than they dared to hope 
they would be. They went to a well-known drinking 
saloon, in order to refresh themselves after their 
labors, and told their story, with much unction, to 
the laughing friends who surrounded them. In their 
joy they ordered several bottles of wine, and for an 
hour or more had the jolliest time imaginable. One 


356 


FIGHTING FINE. 


by one their friends dropped away, and they sat there 
telling the story over and over again to the new 
comers, adding a little to its details each time. Pres¬ 
ently one of those who had departed hastily entered 
and exclaimed: “Boys, your wool is gone after all. 
Lindall street is down! ” A shout of laughter arose 
from the throats of the assembled crowd, while blank 
dismay settled upon the faces of the victims. “Dick,” 
exclaimed one. “Harry,” gloomily responded the 
other. “We might as well have left it where it was, 
after all.” “ That’s so. But I swear it’s too bad to 
lose it after having so cleverly saved it.” 

Some of those who were hunting for spoils thrown 
from the burning houses were very hard to please. 
One man was seen on Pearl street, when the fire was 
raging there at its heaviest, picking up boots, looking 
at them and throwing them away again. When asked 
by an officer what he was doing, he replied that he 
wms looking for a pair of eights. Another of these 
self-appointed savers of property loaded himself down 
with boots and shoes that had been thrown out of a 
window. He hurried off to a secluded spot to take an 
account of stock, and after completing his labors he 
was heard to exclaim, “Not a darned left, as sure as 
you’re born.” 

A very funny incident took place near Summer 
street. A tall, thin lady, somewhat on the shady side 
of forty, with screw curls, a firm and decided expres¬ 
sion of countenance, and exhibiting every sign of “old 
maidness,” was the heroine. Her crunched bonnet 
fluttered defiantly down her back, and was only pre¬ 
vented from falling off by the ribbons by which it wms 
tied about her neck. Her rusty black dress had evi¬ 
dently been hurried on at a moment’s notice, as it was 


BOSTON. 


357 


buttoned and booked awry. She pushed her way 
through the excited crowds while the tire was raging 
at its highest, wringing her hands, and shrieking fran¬ 
tically for “Clara.” She implored, wept, stormed, 
and moaned for “ Clara,” enlisting everybody’s sym¬ 
pathy by her passionate woe. u Will nobody put out a 
hand to save the poor thing? ” she screamed in almost 
frantic accents. “ 0 dear, 0 dear! My little darling 
will be burned to death! ” Even the most hardened 
felt for the agony that seemed to be urging the poor 
woman to madness. Firemen stopped their work to 
ask her where her u Clara” was, and several crowded 
about her with proffers of assistance, if she would only 
be explicit. But not a coherent explanation could 
be gained from her. She continued to wring her 
hands and moan, “Clara, Clara! my poor Clara!” 
In the meanwhile a thrill of terror went through the 
multitude at the idea that some human creature was 
in deadly peril of burning to death, and no intelli¬ 
gence of her whereabouts could be gained from the 
half-demented woman before them, who rocked to and 
fro, sobbing, and refusing to be comforted. Presently, 
with a wild shout of joy, she darted forward. “ Clara! 
Clara! ” she shouted, stooping downward as though 
to clasp the object she so clamored for. Crouching in 
a corner was a large white cat with singed fur, who, 
with swollen tail, stood hissing and spitting with fear¬ 
ful energy. As the old lady stooped to pick her 
darling up, the ungrateful feline flew at her, leaving 
the marks of her savage claws on her mistress 1 face, 
and shot away in mad terror, amid the jeers and 
laughter of the crowd, her frantic owner darting after 
her, with the bonnet flying, ensign downward, like a 
signal of distress. 


358 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Another amusing diversion was created by a tall, 
well knit and rather rugged specimen of humanity, 
who stood gazing at the fire with an air of the most 
absorbed interest. He was not excited, and let no 
expression of dismay or sympathy escape him. Every 
now and then he would take a vigorous bite at a large 
hunk of tobacco, and chew with an energy that knew 
no flagging, but without for a moment taking his eyes 
from the fire, which seemed to exercise a species of 
fascination over him. As the flames made headway, 
he moved uneasily, shifted his weight from one foot 
to the other, and chewed with renewed animation. 
Each new building that fell a victim to the fire 
seemed to cause him the most poignant despair. His 
glance was not as strongly marked by anxiety as by 
curiosity. His sallow jaws seemed to elongate with 
every fresh building that went down. His dress and 
appearance did not betoken a man who had any great 
amount of property at stake there, and the general 
impression among those who observed him was, that 
his mind was agitated by the prospect of being burned 
out of his situation. Presently, when the flames seemed 
as though they would engulf the whole city, he 
turned his pale face from them, and, addressing a 
party by his side, said: “Psho! It can’t be done. 
This place ain’t big enough.” These words made 
his peculiar conduct all the more mysterious and unac¬ 
countable to the observers. They conveyed no mean¬ 
ing. lie continued to watch the fire, chew and 
expectorate. There was a momentary lull in the pro¬ 
gress of the flames, and it seemed as though the fire 
was about to be stopped. At this our hero again spoke. 
“I thought so,” he exclaimed, in a self-satisfied man¬ 
ner. “It can’t be did. The Chicago fire knocked 


BOSTON. 


359 


this one all to splinters. Yes, it did, I tell you. I was 
born there, and I ought to know. I tell you, sir,” he 
continued, with a glare of triumph in his eyes, “ Chi¬ 
cago is bound to be ahead on this fire yet.” And he 
turned on his heel and walked away, his face beaming 
with patriotic fervor, and an expression of the most un¬ 
bounded contempt overspreading his countenance for 
the miserable failure that was certain to attend all 
envious attempts of Boston to rival Chicago in the 
matter of fires. 

The number of tipsy people who were to be seen 
in the neighborhood of the fire baffles all computa¬ 
tion. They sprang up in all directions without warn¬ 
ing, tumbling into man-holes, over hose-pipes, in the 
mud; tripping over obstructions of every description 
and picking themselves up again, with that sodden 
indifference to pain and inconvenience that is so 
characteristic of the enthusiastic and oblivious worship¬ 
ers of Bacchus. One of these had a large bundle, 
wrapped in a white sheet, which he was dragging 
after him through the mud and mire, and which had 
the effect of steadying him to some extent and pre¬ 
venting him, from falling. How many people he 
swept off their feet, as he pulled his unwieldy load 
after him. will never be known. His progress was 
suddenly brought to a stand-still by a policeman, who 
seized him by the arm, and began to question him re¬ 
garding the right by which he kept company with the 
bundle; but the only reply solicited from the poor 
fool was a stupid stare from a pair of lack-lustre eyes, 
a hiccough and the exclamation : “ Or ri, missur. I’m 
or ri. Big fire down ’ere. Wha’ll ye take ? ” No 
shaking, hustling, or remonstrance could win any other 
answer from him. At length the police began to 
21 


360 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


drag him away, bundle and all, when the tipsy idiot 
loosened his hold on the bundle and stammered out: 
u Look a here, missur policeman; whas er marrer? 
I’m or ri. Big fire down ’ere. Hole on. Yer tearing 
my coat. Say! Stop ’at. Or ri! If you’re goin’ to 
take me up yer mayzwell carry mer bunnel too. As 
so! I’m willin’. Mine’s whiskey. Wassyourn?” And 
the last seen of the pair was the policeman drag¬ 
ging the bundle with one hand, and grasping the 
prisoner’s collar with the other, causing that worthy 
to perform a series of extraordinary pedestrian gyra¬ 
tions, in which he got over a great deal of ground 
without finding it absolutely necessary to take very 
short .steps, or to put both feet to the ground at the 
same time. 

Another tipsy man sat on a curbstone in Devonshire 
street, with a battered hat down over his eyes, his 
clothes covered with mud, and his face expressing the 
most unbounded benevolence and peace of mind. 
He held a bottle in his hand, and offered it to all who 
stumbled againstkor over him, inviting them to join 
him in a drink. He'appeared to have some glimmer¬ 
ing idea that the firemen were fatigued, and that they 
needed refreshment, and that if he could only get at 
them with his bottle, much would be done towards 
putting out the fire by reason of the supreme energy 
with which it would inspire them. Some boys, who 
had been watching and tormenting him, suddenly took 
it into their heads that they might make him a source 
of still further enjoyment to them; so they picked up 
stones from the middle of the street, and every time 
he held up the bottle they took aim and fired at it. 
Their failure to hit it only filled them with a more de¬ 
termined ambition to succeed, and the stones flew thick 


BOSTON. 


361 


and fast every time the bottle was held up. He was 
struck often and heavily, but the charmed bottle 
remained intact. After an unusually heavy shower of 
stones, he slightly shifted his ground, mumbling: 
u Guess it’s gettin’ pretty hot here, the way the chips 
is fly in’ about.” At length one well-aimed stone struck 
the bottle, crushing it into splinters and shedding its 
precious liquor. The drunkard staggered to his feet 
and moved unsteadily away, exclaiming, as he went: 
“That ’splosion’s pooty close. Guess I’ll be movin’.” 
And he disappeared in the midst of a shower of stones, 
fully convinced, no doubt, that they were the frag¬ 
ments cast up by the “ ’splosion ” that had caused him 
to move to a place of greater safety. 

The rapid spread of the flames filled some with a 
crazy terror that nothing could allay. One woman—a 
stout one, by the way—frantic with fear, was seen 
rushing down Devonshire street with a large but cheap 
looking-glass in her arms, which was cracked in all 
directions, and had great gaps in it where pieces of 
glass had fallen out. Her face was as full of stony 
terror as though she had just gazed upon Medusa’s 
head. Every now and then she would look back over 
her shoulder, and the sight that met her view seemed 
to fill her with additional alarm, for she ricochetted 
along rather than run. Surely, never before did a 
stout woman make such time in a race. Suddenly she 
. tripped and fell squarely on the pavement, with the 
looking-glass under her. It was crushed into in¬ 
distinguishable splinters; but she, unheeding, re¬ 
gained her feet, and retaining what fragments of the 
frame remained in her hands, hugged them to her 
breast, and sped on her frantic course like an arrow 
shot from a bow. 


362 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


There were not wanting in the crowd many who 
looked with melancholy faces at the fire, and threw 
out hints regarding Sodom and Gomorrah, and sug¬ 
gested that the fire was a visitation of divine wrath 
upon the sinful city. One of these, with all the pecu¬ 
liar distinctive marks of his class, a long sanctimo¬ 
nious face, a nasal, aggravating tone of voice, and a 
sleek and provoking air of saintly superiority about 
him, harangued the crowd in his neighborhood much 
after the following fashion : u I tell you it is nothing 
else but the Lord raining down fire upon you for your 
sins. You are being punished for your backslidings and 
your shortcomings. You have sown the whirlwind and 
you are reaping the tempest.” It will be observed 
that he did not include himself among the sinners, but 
spoke entirely in the second person. He did not, in 
common with the canting saints of his class, seem to 
think that the good and bad suffered alike in such 
public calamities. Some one at his side ventured to 
suggest as much, whereupon he retorted: “ The ways 
of Providence are inscrutable. It is not for such weak 
worms as we are to probe into the way in which the 
Lord works out His ends.” This particular “weak 
worm ” forgot that a moment before he had sacrileg¬ 
iously ventured to probe into the way ; but consistency 
is not one of the virtues of these self-appointed cen¬ 
sors of other people. He continued: “New York 
will go next. Mark my words. New York will go 
next. These things are all ordained. The wicked 
shall be caught in their own snare, and shall die in 
their own pitfalls. IPs all ordained, I tell you.” 
“ Say, mister,” said a brawny laboring man who stood 
by, “who’s been tellin’ you all that?” A roar of 
laughter followed this question, in which the questioner 


BOSTON. 


363 


joined in a good-natured but self-denying way. He 
saw he had made a hit, and evidently wished to wear 
his honors modestly. “Yes; who’s been tellin’ you 
all that? ” he repeated, evidently thinking the remark 
would bear repetition; but it was a failure this time. 
His moment of popularity was over. Such is life. 
But few know how to leave well alone. Another 
speaker said to the disconsolate Jeremiah: “ You don’t 
believe everything is ordained, do you? ” “ I do; if 

the Lord did not wish it to happen it would not hap¬ 
pen ; ” replied the other; “ it has happened, therefore 
the Lord has ordained it.” They were standing near 
a fireman who was directing a tremendous stream from 
a hosepipe upon a burning building. “ Do you think 
that fireman was ordained to take that hosepipe and 
help to put out the fire,” inquired the first speaker. 
“ I do, every word of it,” was the reply. The other 
pulled the fireman’s arm and directed the stream of 
water in the sanctimonious face of the canting predes- 
tinarian, who was drenched in a moment, and half suf¬ 
focated into the bargain, while the crowd shouted with 
glee and scattered in all directions to escape the 
deluge. The sufferer, mad with rage, ran wildly about 
to find his insulter, and presently succeeded. “ I shall 
give you in charge, sir,” he sputtered; “I shall have 
you arrested for your outrageous conduct” “ What 
for?” exclaimed the other; “I couldn’t help it It 
was ordained along with the rest of the things.” 
Another roar followed this dally, and the man cunning 
in interpreting the motives of his Maker hastily made 
his way off before it ceased. 

Thieves there were in plenty. It is wonderful where 
they all came from, and how so much pilfering was 
done in such a short space of time. One of the§e 


364 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


u Knights of the Moon 77 captured a prize, and hastened 
away with it under his arm. He did not know what 
it was, but it was contained in a small brass box that 
was carefully tied up, labelled and numbered. He 
had taken it from a cart that was conveying papers 
and books from a bank that wms in danger. He has¬ 
tened on his way, every now and then looking ner¬ 
vously behind him. As he walked he took the box 
from under his arm and tried to read the inscription, 
but it was too dark. Whenever he passed a gas lamp 
he repeated the attempt to decipher wdiat was written 
on the wrapper, but without stopping. The box was 
heavy; evidently contained valuables. He was too 
impatient to wait until he got to his home. Curiosity 
devoured him. His repeated failures only whetted 
his appetite to know the value of his prize, but he was 
either too nervous or too wary to stop long enough to 
decipher the inscription, and yet he was dying to do 
so. He was nearing another gas lamp ; he hesitated, 
walked on, halted, looked about him, went on his way 
again, and cast another look at the box. In a moment 
he would be under the lamp. The temptation was 
too great to resist. He stopped, held the box up at 
an angle that would permit him to read the wished-for 
information, and as he was painfully deciphering the 
label, a policeman tapped him on the shoulder. They 
were evidently old acquaintances, for the officer took 
charge of both the box and its bearer, and led them 
quietly away. The cup of joy was dashed from the 
victim’s lips just as he was about to drain it. So 
much for curiosity. 

At the burning of Weeks & Potter’s large drug 
store on Washington street, another of these light- 
fingered gentry came to grief. He managed, in the 


BOSTON. 


365 


confusion, to become possessed of a small glass con¬ 
taining a bright yellow substance, with which he has¬ 
tened away, having placed it in his pantaloons’ pocket. 
In the crowd and confusion the bottle was broken, but 
as the substance was solid it scarcely mattered pro¬ 
vided the glass did not prove dangerous. He has¬ 
tened into a side street with the intention of providing 
against such a contingency, but in a few moments he 
began to jump about and manifest the most lively in¬ 
terest in his pocket. He thrust his hand in, rapidly 
withdrew it, screamed, threw himself on the ground, 
rolled over and over again, and seemed to be in the 
most agonizing pain. The clever follower of Mercury, 
the patron of thieves, had stolen a bottle of phosphorus, 
and was in a pttnnising way of having a conflagration 
all to himself, owing to the breaking of the bottle. 
He was speedily freed from immediate danger by some 
one considerately cutting his clothes off, but was se¬ 
verely burned. It was the general impression that he 
will not take much future interest in drug stores in the 
way of his legitimate or rather illegitimate business. 

Cartmen and hackmen drove a thriving trade on 
the first nights of the fire. They dictated their own 
terms. Twenty dollars was a common price for a 
hack, and as high as fifty was given for a drive of less 
than a mile. Anything in the shape of a cart or a 
wagon brought immense prices, as much as two hund¬ 
red dollars being paid for a load. One cartman 
boasted of having drawn seven loads for a large dry 
goods firm at five hundred dollars a load. People were 
too eager to save their goods to care or haggle about 
prices. One large firm engaged a cartman to remove 
some goods, which he would not do without first stip¬ 
ulating and setting the price. He demanded fifty 


366 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


dollars for taking a load of valuable books, vouchers, 
and other papers to a place of safety not a quarter of 
a mile from the scene of the fire. His terms were 
agreed to, his cart was loaded, and one of the firm rode 
with him to look after the safety of the articles. He had 
not proceeded far when he made up his mind that his 
time was worth more than fifty dollars a quarter of an 
hour. He stopped his horse, and refused to go further 
unless he received more pay. He was asked how much 
more he wanted, when he demanded exactly double 
what he had himself proposed and agreed to. His 
employer, indignant, refused to accede to the extor¬ 
tionate demand, and bade him return. This he refused 
to do, saying he could not afford to waste his time, and 
made preparations for dropping his freight in the road. 
This brought his victim to terms, and the ‘extra fifty 
dollars was promised. But the cartman would not 
take any promise ; his motto was cash. The other re¬ 
monstrated, but fn vain, and at length was obliged to 
pay the money beYore the rascally cartman would 
move. At length the load reached its destination, was 
carefully carried in doors and placed in safety. The 
cartman lingered at the door, and as the gentleman he 
had so badly treated came forth, the following collo¬ 
quy occurred: u Well, what do you want?” inquired 
the victim, addressing his tyrant. u I want my fifty 
dollars,” gruffly responded the cartman; “and I want 
it quick, for I ain’t got no time to wait.” u Why, I 
paid you, you scoundrel,” retorted the other. U I 
know you did,” assented the cartman, “but that was 
the extra fifty dollars; I want the first fifty now.” 
“What, didn’t they pay you at the store?” inquired 
the first speaker with $n eager look of mischief in his 
eyes. “No, I only got what you give me.” “Very 


BOSTON. 


367 


well, then; go about your business.” “Why, ain’t 
you going to pay me what they agreed to? ” u What 
did they agree to pay you? ” “Fifty dollars.” “Well, 

didn’t I pay you ? ” u Yes, but that was extra.” u Oh, 
was it? I am sorry. That’s all you’ll get,” was the 
reply, given with a hearty laugh. “You ought to do 
a cash business; you did with me, you know. Good 
night; I’m going back to tell them I have paid you.” 
And he walked off, leaving the cartman a prey to the 
most intense remorse for his own short-sightedness in 
not doing a “cash business.” 

These cormorants were inexorable in their demands, 
and but few of them were outwitted as was their 
brother mentioned above. A gentleman wishing to 
go from Congress street to Commonwealth avenue, a 
little over half a mile, with his books and papers, 
summoned a hack. “Drive me to No. — Common¬ 
wealth avenue,” he exclaimed to the hackman. “Twenty 
dollars, sir,” replied the other, promptly. “All right. 
Price is no object,” returned the other, hastily getting 
into the hack. “ Make haste, there’s a good fellow, 
for I shall want you to bring me back again at the 
same price.” The hackman, with a face beaming with 
smiles, shut the door, jumped on his box, and was soon 
driving rapidly along with pleasing visions of forty 
greenbacks nestling warmly in the greasy pocket-book 
in the breast pocket inside his vest. He lashed his 
horses, and made his best time, accomplishing his 
journey in less than ten minutes. He leaped off his 
box, opened the hack door, took a bundle of books his 
fare offered him, carried them up the steps, followed by 
the gentleman, and deposited them carefully on the hall 
table after the latter had opened the door. They then 
came forth again. The hack door was still open, wait- 


3G8 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


ing for tlie gentleman to step in. He took out his 
pocket book, opened it, and picked a fifty-cent piece, 
which he tendered to the expectant driver. u Thank 
you, sir,” he exclaimed as he took it, evidently think¬ 
ing it an extra for the zeal he had shown to make 
haste, and holding the hack door so as to close it after 
the gentleman got in; u much obliged.” “Not at all,” 
coolly replied the other. u Then that is all right, as 
I understand you,” he continued, interrogatively. 
“ What do you mean ? ” inquired the driver, with a 
slight misgiving coming over his mind. “ Your fare,” 
returned the other. “No,” indignantly retorted the 

hackman; “fifty cents be d-! I was to have 

twenty dollars.” “All right,” answered the gentleman, 
quite unruffled, and jumping into the hack again, 
“drive me to the mayor’s office.” “Eh! what! ” ex¬ 
claimed the driver, aghast, “whatis that for?” “Drive 
me there, or anywhere you please to give me in charge. 
The nearest police station will do. * I want to spare 
you the trouble of calling an officer, and desire that 
you should take me somewhere where you can give 
me into custody for refusing to pay you twenty dol¬ 
lars for driving me home. That’s all. Come, make 
haste. I am in a very great hurry.” And he nestled 
himself back comfortably in the hack. “ Say, look 
here!” cried the driver, “I don’t want no foolin’. 
Are you goin’ to pay me or not? ” “ Decidedly not, 

and therefore I want to be given in charge at once,” 
replied the other, quite unruffled. “If you are not 
quick about it, I shall get out, and then you’ll lose 
your chance.” “You promised me twenty dollars.” 
“ I know I did, and I’m not going to keep my prom¬ 
ise ; therefore I am prepared to be taken into custody. 
You attempted to take advantage of me; I took ad- 



BOSTON. 


369 


vantage of you. It’s all right, my good fellow. 
Fifty cents is your legal fare. Preying upon the mis¬ 
fortunes that surrounded me, you illegally charged me 
twenty dollars. I am waiting to be arrested for my 
share of the breach of contract. We will settle about 
yours afterwards. Come, drive along to the police 
station, do.” “Here, you get out of this at once,” 
exclaimed the driver, wild with rage. “By no means; 
I haven’t done with you, I tell you.” “Come, I’ve 
had enough of this foolin’,” cried the hackman, feeling 
that he was completely baffled, and knowing that he 
did not dare make a complaint against his fare. “ Give 
me my fare, and let me go.” “I gave you fifty cents, 
you will remember. If you consult your ticket,— 
which, by the way, will do away with all further argu¬ 
ment,—you will see that is just what the law allows 
you,” the gentleman answered, quitting the carriage. 
“ I would have willingly given you five dollars, but 
when you were so unconscionable as to demand twenty, 
I pay you your legal fare and no more. Good night.” 
And he tripped lightly up the steps, leaving the driver 
a picture of helpless rage. “I’ll remember you,” he 
shouted, as he leaped to his box and viciously lashed 
his horses. “ I hope you will, and the lesson you have 
received,” returned his tormentor, whose words were 
drowned in the noise made by the wheels of the car¬ 
riage as it dashed furiously away. 

In Purchase street, an excited old woman pitched a 
large cheval glass from a second-story window in 
order to save it from the flames, and a few moments 
afterward was seen emerging from the doorway lug¬ 
ging a cumbersome feather bed, beneath which she 
sta^ered, in her arms. Scenes similar to this were 
repeated ad infinitum. The frantic Celt was seen 


370 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


to throw crockery, and other breakable materials, out 
of window with the most unflagging perseverance, 
until he had thus “saved” his entire stock, after 
which he brought down a roll of carpet on his 
shoulder. 

One Irishman, who stood gazing at the flames in be¬ 
wilderment, suddenly burst forth with the exclama¬ 
tion: “Begorra, and if they build the houses upside 
down they wouldn’t have this throuble, for the flames, 
sure, would go into the ground.” 

Another child of the Green Isle was a porter in 
one of the stores that was eventually burned. He 
also was a sort of janitor, and slept in the building. 
When the flames approached near enough to render 
his tenancy of the building a dangerous proceeding, 
he was urged to quit the place, but in vain. No en¬ 
treaties could move him. He felt perfect confidence 
in the safety of the establishment he was guarding. 
At length the police went in and told him he must 
leave. “And why?” inquired the over-confident 
servitor. “ Thp place can’t catch fire, sure. Haven’t I 
seen the insurance papers, and, faith, ain’t thim to in¬ 
sure folks agin fire ? ” As this building happened to 
be one of those chosen to be blown up, Pat was un¬ 
ceremoniously ejected. The train was laid as he 
stood by there watching, and presently the explosion 
tumbled it down into a mass of bricks, dust, and 
splintered beams. Pat exclaimed : “ Thim fellows is 

fools! What did they want to do that for? Av 
coorse they could blow it up, and that’s cruel destruc¬ 
tion, for the place is insured and it couldn’t burn 
down,” and he sadly quitted the spot, satisfied that his 
prophecy against the destruction of the building by 


BOSTON. 


371 


fire had come true, and more than ever convinced of 
the efficacy of insurance policies as safeguards against 
fire. 

Much well-meant but ill-timed and commonplace 
condolence was meted out to the sufferers by zealous 
and impertinent moralizers. One case in point, that 
occurred near the corner of Milk and Washington 
streets, when the Transcript building was burning, 
deserves chronicling. An elderly gentleman, gray¬ 
haired, and carrying a comfortable, well-to-do look in 
his portly and well-clad person, stood gazing sorrow¬ 
fully at the havoc the red terror was making with his 
property, and did not speak a word, but looked earnest¬ 
ly at the destruction that was robbing him of the labors 
of a long and laborious life. There was a look of pain, 
but of quiet resignation, on his face. A person stood 
by his side and ventilated the usual commonplaces: 
tc It might have been worse.” “We must bow to the 
will of fate.” u It can’t be helped.” The old gentleman 
did not seem to pay attention to what was being said, 
but continued to gaze mournfully at the melting away 
of his fortune, unnerved by the outpourings of consola¬ 
tion that passed from the lips of the spectator. u 0, 
sir, it is thus that we are tried. How happy you ought 
to be that you have escaped with life! ” “ How much 
worse it might have been! ” The grief-stricken listener 
heaved a sigh, as though in sympathy with these kind 
words. u How uncertain is life, after all! ” pursued this 
fountain of commonplaces. “This morning this very 
spot was covered with mighty warehouses, stored with 
treasures of every description. Where are they 

now?” “Oh, gone to h-, where I wish you were 

with all my heart,” exclaimed the goaded condoled- 
with, turning suddenly on his persecutor. 



FIGHTING FIRE. 


O Q 

o t A 

A fireman disposed of a bore, who was tendering 
him advice gratis, in a more summary manner. This 
bore knew all about fires, and stood, surrounded by a 
little audience of his own, saying what ought to have 
been done, what should be done, what should not 
have been done, and how foolish it was not to 
do something he thought ought to be done. 
Nothing was right. The fire was bunglingly man¬ 
aged throughout. The firemen were not properly 
trained. The Chief Engineer was a fool. The engines 
were failures. Now, if he had had the power in his 
own hands, he would have, etc., etc. A sturdy hose- 
man stood near busily engaged directing a stream on 
the burning ruins. To him Sir Oracle occasionally 
addressed a remark, or suggestion, to which, when 
answer did come, it was more forcible than polite. 
At last the meddling busy-body grew importunate to 
have the water directed to a particular place, and 
made 'known his desire to the fireman, who paid no 
heed to him. u Say, fireman,” exclaimed this nuisance, 
“that ought to be put out. It’ll catch to the next 
building. See there, how it flashes up. That ought 
to be put out.” The fireman still paying no attention, 
the speaker plucked him several times by the sleeve. 
u Say! Get out! ” drawled the hoseman, in a slow, con¬ 
temptuous and perfectly unexcited manner, as he 
turned the stream full in the face of the individual 
who was anxious for something to be put out, and 
then coolly returned to his occupation, having at last 
extinguished something. 

One man came running down Franklin street 
almost wild with fear. The greatest anxiety was in 
his face. He had evidently only heard of the fire late, 
and was rushing down to his place of business to save 


BOSTON; 


373 

what he could. He neared the building which was 
just catching. He was about to enter, when the 
crowd attempted to dissuade him from so dangerous a 
risk, especially at a time when buildings were swal¬ 
lowed up in the flames almost as rapidly as they 
ignited. But nothing would deter him. He had 
property to save, and he would either save it or yield up 
his life in the attempt. He broke away, darted up the 
stairs to the second story, where the smoke was already 
suffocatingly thick, and, for a few moments, was heard 
of no more. Would he save his valuables ? Would 
he save his life ? Such were the thoughts that agita¬ 
ted the minds of all who had been spectators of the 
young man’s determined energy. He presently ap¬ 
peared at the head of the stairs, and came darting 
down three steps at a time, pursued by the flames, 
which scarcely waited for him to quit the building be¬ 
fore they completely enfolded it. u Have you saved 
what you went-for ? ” several asked with a common 
impulse, full of admiration for the daring young fel¬ 
low whose all was probably at stake there. u Yes, 
yes,” he gasped. “I saved them. It was a tight 
squeeze, though, but I wouldn’t have lost them for 
anything,” and he held up a meerschaum pipe and a 
prettily embroidered pen-wiper. Not much to risk 
one’s life for, certainly. 

A gentleman came rushing in confusion down a 
flight of stairs into the street, with an ice-cooler in his 
arms, and was greatly surprised to find it was not his 
ledger, which he supposed he was saving. These 
ludicrous mishaps occurred without number. People 
seemed to think it necessary to save something, and as 
a rule generally managed to bring away things of the 
slightest value. One gentleman rushed into the street 

' ■ ) 


374 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


with a blotting-pad and fire-shovel, which he gave to 
somebody for safe-keeping, and then rushed back 
again to save more valuables. Another stood at 
a second story window letting down a bale of wool 
carefully with a rope, when no damage could have 
overtaken it had he swiftly thrown it out of the 
window. 

Many funny scenes occurred the next day at the 
barriers, where the soldiers were stationed to keep the 
crowd from the ruins. At one of these, a man with a 
goo A "humored countenance, but evidently a working- 
tempted to pass, when the sentinel challenged 
i her roughly and denied him admittance. He 
gaze . t the soldier, who was a mere lad, and ex- 
'k d: “ Say, ^pnny, who did you whitewash for, 
befbn your mother nought you that fine soger coat ? ” 

At another barrier, a rather well-dressed gentleman 
attempted to pa$s, and the sentinel demurred. The 
l Ivon treated, but the soldier was inexorable on 
h stron/;; sense of duty. u No sir,” he sjexclaimed. 
u You c( - ah not pass here without an order, even if you 
wei i die President of the United States.” The gentle- 
ma? gazetl him admiringly for a moment, and then 
said with much enthusiasm: “Come to my arms. 1 
wou i rathe" lose twenty cherry-trees than have one 
of old; Napoleon’s guard tell a lie! ” 

Anode person, when he presented himself, was 
saluteo Yvi h trie stereotyped exclamation, “You can¬ 
not pa, i. fie drew a piece of paper from his pocket, 
and, she win z ; to the sentinel retorted, “I guess I’ll 
not only >ass, out go it alone,” and, as he went inside 
the lines on th-i strength of an order from the Chief o'* 
Police, h a dat the sentinel and said: “Euchred, 
pard! My deal.” 


BOSTON. 



375 

These and countless similar incidents occurred dur¬ 
ing the long agony of the terrible drama, but those 
we have given are a fair specimen of the whole, and 
it would be but repetition to relate them to any 
greater extent. 

Some of the signs erected in the ruined district 
were remarkably funny, and show the good nature 
and philosophy that prevail to so large an extent 
among us, and which are such distinctive features of 
our national character. One sign read, “Removed 
for repairs;” another, “ Gone up;” another, “Great 
sacrifices here ; ” another, “ Closed during the heated 
term.” Yet another, “Out of evil cometh good;” 
another, “A burning shame;” another, “Baking 
done here; ” and, to conclude, another, “Damaged by 
fire.” 

Thus, in real life as in the mimic, it will be seen that 
mirth and woe go cheek by jowl. 





t 

4 


CHAPTER XX. 

AFTERWARD AND IN RETROSPECT. 








Feverish Apprehensiveness of Further Fires.—Gradually Allayed.— 
Awakened Again the Second Week by Another Large Fire.—And 
Still Another.—No Further Remarkable Alarms or Occurrences.— 
Progress in Recuperation.—The State of the Safes.—A Large Supply of 
Water.—No Money Panic.—The Nature of the Losses.—The Good Order 
of the City..—Closing ^of the Bar-rooms.—The Theatres and Lectures 
* Suspended.—Classic Sites in the Burnt District.—Webster, Choate, 
Everett, Bancroft, Charming.—The Temple of the Drama.—The Birth¬ 
place of Franklin.—Trinity Church.—The Old South Saved.—Its 
History.—It Encounters Another Danger.—Yields to the Demands of 
Business.—Formidable Opposition Thereto.—The Newspaper Offices. 
—The Coliseum.—The Clergy.—Rev. Robert Collyer. 

/ 

HE feverish state of apprehension in which 
the public mind in Boston remained for 
a week or more after the fire was very 
noticeable. The magnitude of the con¬ 
flagration, and the apparent futility of all 
efforts to resist its progress during most 
of the time it raged, had unsettled the usual sense of 
security on the part of the people. The second, or 
Sunday night fire, had added to this nervous state of 
anxiety. The announced arrival of roughs from New 
York city for purposes of plunder was still another 
element of dread. The city was full of rumors of 

(376) 




BOSTON 


377 

intended incendiarism. The belief began to prevail 
that there was a plot to burn Boston. There were, 
doubtless, some attempts to burn buildings on the 
part of those who hoped to receive ill-gotten gains in 
the confusion of added fires. These, however, were 
fortunately all frustrated. Frequent alarms from 
small fires continued to keep the people apprehen¬ 
sive ; but no serious calamity was added to the great 
one for more than a week after the supplementary 
burning of Sunday night. 

The second week opened with a calmer state of 
feeling. On Monday night, of the 18th, this was 
broken in upon with a fire th^t renewed and intensi¬ 
fied the dread of disaster, and mad ' more apparent 
than ever. Just before ten o’clocl it the time when 
most people were retiring for the night, an alarm 
was sounded, and then another and another. These 
last were the signals of the most serious conflagration, 
and summoned every engine in the city, and such 
from outside as could be procured. A' pst simulta¬ 
neously, the heavens were illumined, so chat the red 
glare of fire was visible from every part of Boston. 
The light came from the region of the Custom-house, 
Faneuil Hall and the Merchants’ Exchange, which 
are among the largest buildings of the city. The 
whole population was in the streets in a very short 
time, and the rush to the scene was like the pressure 
of an army of men. The fire was found to be in 
State street Block, a long row of granite stores just 
east of the Custom-house towards the bay. The 
flames raged fiercely for an hour or more, and a 
second great conflagration was seriously threatened. 
The stores in the block contained much inflammable 
matter, among which was a large stock of paints and 


378 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


oils, and even one of gunpowder. There were long 
lines of bales of cotton in the vicinity, which were 
once on fire from the sparks, and the shipping in the 
harbor was also in danger. Fortunately the heavy 
partition walls, with the efforts of the fire department, 
proved a sufficient protection, and the flames were 
subdued before midnight. 

•It is not probable that this fire was occasioned by 
other than accidental causes, but its occurrence, as 
has been said, revived the feeling that there was a 
fatality impending over the city. The public mind 
was more than ever anxious. In less than forty-eight 
hours, it had another startling reminder of the danger 
that was still 07 ' mtly imminent. Shortly after six 
o’clock on TVed: sday evening, the signals of ex- 
tremest alarm sounded out again from all the bells 
of the city, and again the heavens reflected an appal¬ 
ling scene of illumination. This proved to be a still 
more threatening fire. It began in the largest printing- 
office in Be m, among the sheets of paper in the 
drying room, and spread with such rapidity that the 
operatives were compelled to run for their lives, 
saving not even the clothing for the streets which 
belonged to them. The building was situated at the 
junction of Cornhill and Washington streets, was 
very old and very high, in the narrowest and most 
closely built upon neighborhood, and contained, 
besides its printing stock, two or three bookbinderies 
and bookstores, in which was a large amount of the 
most inflammable material. The firemen, however, 
worked magnificently, and accomplished wonders in 
confining the flames to the original building. Yet 
here the loss was very great, amounting to several 
hundred thousand dollars. 


BOSTON. 


379 


With these two fires ended what appeared to he 
the more serious and exceptional danger of the city. 
Apprehension still continued to exist in the public 
mind, but the last fires were so admirably controlled 
that confidence in the fire department was in a great 
measure restored. The Chief Engineer had been 
prostrated by an illness brought on by his exertions 
at the great fire, and the command fell upon 
Assistant-Engineer Dunbar, who proved himself a 
very competent and efficient, director. There were 
only slight fires known for several weeks afterwards. 
The city gradually settled down into its wonted state 
of assurance of safety and of quiet. 

The magnitude of the labor of recovery that was 
before the people became each day more evident, 
but there was no shrinking from efforts to engage in 
it. Those who designed to continue business or to 
close up their former transactions had- all secured 
places of location before the second week was ended. 
An army of men were set at work clearing out the 
ruins. They made rapid progress. At the end of 
the third week the streets were all cleared, and 
the military were relieved from their guard duty. 
Many of the walls had been leveled, and the clearing 
out of the cellars preparatory to rebuilding was well 
begun. Wherever the new lines of the streets could 
be fixed, contracts were made for the erection of the 
stores that were to take the place of those destroyed. 
The scene was a busy one, among and about the 
ruins, and every man who could labor was put to 
work there. 

The first thing of all undertaken was the opening 
of safes. This was a delicate and difficult operation. 
It was necessary that it should be accomplished at 


380 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the earliest possible moment. Every clay that the 
safes were in the heated mass where the tire had 
left them increased their danger. Yet much caution 
was needed. The metal had to be thoroughly cooled, 
or the destruction of the contents when the air 
entered was almost certain. Streams of water were 
turned upon them, and played for hours, frequently 
a whole day, before it was safe to undertake this duty. 
When the time came to reach the interior, the scene 
was one of intense excitement often to those who 
had so much depending upon the result. Some of 
these scenes have been described elsewhere. The 
safety of the property was usually rather dependent 
upon the conditions that had attended the safes in 
the debris than ti> be attributed to the merits of any 
especial manufacture. Most of them resisted the 
effects of the heat creditably. Those in which the 
* property was destroyed were such as had either 
fallen among beds of burning coni (for, with singular 
want of foresight, many of them had been placed 
directly over the receptacles of this fuel), or such as 
were opened too hastily, or had sustained injury in 
falling, or had lain long among the ruins. 

It was exceedingly fortunate for the city that the 
supply of water for the fire was so ample. For two 
years previously Boston had been threatened with a 
water famine. Both had been years of excessive 
drought, and for the first time for half a century 
winter had set in without the springs being filled 
by the autumn rains. On one of the coldest days of 
the preceding winter the city was for nearly twelve 
hours cut off 'altogether from her water supply by a 
breaking of the main conduit of her greatest reser¬ 
voir. These things had induced extraordinary 


BOSTON. 


381 


measures to increase lier facilities, which were fully 
completed; and, in addition, the rains of 1872 had 
been exceptionally heavy. The source to be drawn 
from was therefore practically inexhaustible. 

Other circumstances attending the calamity proved 
to be fortunate also. It came in the midst of a strin¬ 
gent money market. Yet there was no money panic. 
Business men admirably kept their equanimity, in 
Boston and out of it. The determined feeling evinced 
on every hand sustained confidence. People were in¬ 
clined rather to underestimate than to exaggerate the 
misfortune in this point of view. They did not fully 
realize its serious character. This arose from the fact 
that there was so little visible suffering. The Boston 
fire differed greatly from that of (Chicago in this re¬ 
spect. In Chicago, scores of thousands were rendered 
homeless; in Boston, scarcely any. Destitution was 
seen on every hand in the one city; there was almost 
none of it in sight in the other. But the actual blow 
to Boston was far worse than if the fire had swept 
over several times the same area in dwellings, render¬ 
ing homeless their inmates. When its effects came to 
be coolly analyzed, it was found that it had destroyed 
the business from which men and women drew their 
subsistence. As an immediate calamity this was much 
less appalling in its effects; as a permanent misfortune 
it was greatly more severe. The capital that would 
still have remained, combined with business facilities, 
would have been adequate to relieving present want 
and providing for future means of subsistence. As it 
was, the fountain of supply itself had been in a great 
degree exhausted. Men and women were thus brought 
gradually to realize their misfortune. It proved ter¬ 
ribly severe, but it brought no panic among any class. 


3g2 FIGHTING FIRE. 

Fortunately, too, as time wore on, its effects became 
more equally distributed. Those in want of work 
were gradually given employment again, and the 
burden thus came to be shared by those who had 
been dependent upon a general state of prosperity, 
who suffered in the decline of trade in articles which 
are reckoned as less in the necessities of life. 

The order of the city was generally well maintained. 
After the first day or two there were no serious ap¬ 
prehensions on this point. The stories of crime pre¬ 
vailing were nearly all exaggerations. Incendiaries 
were not shot or hung, as was reported. It is doubtful 
if any such were found. Thieving was roughly dealt 
with, it may be, but nobody was injured outside the 
operations of the ljiw. The thieving on the first night 
was less extensivd and premeditated, as a rule, than was 
represented, though there was a good deal of it, as a 
. matter of necessity in a great city where the temptation 
was so universal. The city government did an excel¬ 
lent thing, in the week of confusion and darkness that 
succeeded th<i fire, by closing all the bar-rooms and 
liquor saloons of the city. Public opinion, for once, 
was on their side in this attempt, and it was very suc¬ 
cessfully carried out. Its good, effects were palpable 
everywhere. There never w r as so little drunkenness 
and rowdyism in Boston. 

The shutting off of the gas supply settled the ques¬ 
tion as to the closing of public entertainments for the 
first few days after the fire. The theatres, which be¬ 
fore had the disposition to suspend, were now com¬ 
pelled to do so. It was only towards the last of the 
succeeding week that any of them were opened, and 
it required another week before most of them regained 
their accustomed audiences. The lectures were many 


BOSTON. 


383 


of them postponed. Mr. Froude, the eminent historian, 
commenced his course only to devote its profits to 
the sufferers by the calamity. Almost everything 
else was a failure that was attempted before the 
end of the year. Edwin Forrest gave readings to 
small houses, and the finest concerts were unremun- 
erative. The only theatres that succeeded in do¬ 
ing a paying business were, the one that was most 
patronized by people from the country, and another 
that appealed to the ruder kind of taste in the char¬ 
acter of its performances. Thoughtful people of 
Boston were too seriously inclined to participate in 
amusements. 

It has been stated that, with very little exception, 
the business portion only of Bostoh was reached by 
this fire. The considerable loss of works of art before 
alluded to was in a great degree accidental, from their 
being stored temporarily in uncongenial locations. 
The fire had swept, however, over sites of the city that 
had, in earlier days, quite different associations. It 
commenced within a stone’s throw of spots which were 
long the residences of Daniel Webster, Edward Everett, 
and Rufus Choate. Webster lived on High street, 
Everett on Summer street, Choate on Winthrop place, 
and George Bancroft, when in Boston, resided for 
years on what is now Otis street. Bostonians well 
remembered Webster haranguing people from the 
steps of his mansion; hundreds of them had visited 
Everett in his library, and thousands had watched 
Choate, as he walked abstractedly each day with his 
green bag in his hand from the court-house to his 
study. Trade had compelled the destruction of all 
these spots about which clustered recollections. Fur¬ 
ther north in Federal street was the site of the old 


384 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Federal street theatre, one of the earliest identified 
with the glories of the drama in Boston, whose hoards 
Edmund Kean, George Frederick Cooke, Conway, 
Cooper, and the elder Booth had trod, and where 
Edmund Kean was mobbed and compelled to flee for 
his insult to a Boston audience. Later this building 
was converted into a lecture hall, preserving mostly 
the arrangement of its seats, and Emerson, Agassiz, 
and nearly every man eminent in science, literature, 
statesmanship, or political distinction had been heard 
in it. Another decade passed, and the theatre claimed 
it again, Charles Kean and Ellen Tree, Forrest, Booth, 
and the stars of the day appearing. Trade at length 
reached it, and assumed proprietorship on the scene 
of all these glories. Further west, on Washington 
street, was the birthplace of Franklin, covered by a 
newspaper office at the time of the fire. Again, on 
Federal street was the site of Dr. Channing’s church, 
where one of the greatest and purest men of America 
had preached for years the new liberal faith in religion. 
As the dwelling-houses about it were cleared away, 
the society had been compelled to relinquish this also 
to the uses of mercantile traffic. The only public 
buildings burnt were the two Episcopalian churches 
before mentioned—the one a comparatively new and 
unpretending mission church in Purchase street; the 
other, old Trinity, in Summer street.* This church, 
although the organization that worshiped in it was 


* Trinity Church was the third Episcopal church established in Boston, 
the first steps towards its foundation having been taken in April, 1728. 
Subscriptions for the erection of the church were opened in 1730, and con¬ 
tinued three years. The corner stone of the original edifice was laid on 
the 15th of April, 1734, and the first services were held August 15th, 1735, 
when the Rev. Thomas Harwood and the Rev. Roger Price, rector of 



BOSTON. 


385 

one of the oldest in the city, was in its edifice of com¬ 
paratively recent date. The Legislature had two 
years earlier passed an act authorizing its removal, 
which was quite certain early to have taken place. 
It was a handsome edifice, of unhammered Quincy 
granite. 

The fire, however, stopped short of a church¬ 
building of a much more interesting historical 
character. This was the Old South Church, which is 
perhaps the most celebrated religious edifice in the 
country. It is on the corner of Washington and 
Milk streets. The flames came to the other side of 
Milk street on the south, and approached very near 
in its rear on the east also. By extraordinary effort, 
it was rescued. The Old South socfiety was the third 
Congregational society established in Boston, and 
was organized in 1669, when its first meeting-house 
was built. This was taken down in 1729, and the 


King’s Chapel, officiated. No clergyman was regularly installed until 
May, 1 739, when Mr. Addingford Davenport was appointed rector, by the 
Bishop of London. Seven years later Mr. Davenport died in London, and 
Rev. William Hooper became his successor, and held his position as rector 
until 1768, when he was succeeded by the Rev. William Walker, who, on 
the breaking out of the Revolution, left Boston with many other royalists 
for Nova Scotia. Trinity Church would appear to have been without a 
pastor from 1775 to 1779, when the Rev. Samuel Parker was chosen rec¬ 
tor, and continued to hold that position twenty-five years. In 1805 Dr. 
John Gardener was installed rector. In 1828 the society decided on tear¬ 
ing down the old church, which had stood ninety-three years, and replacing 
it by a stone edifice, and the church destroyed in the fire was then built. 
The subsequent rectors were George W. Doane, John H. Hopkins, Jona¬ 
than Wainwriglit, and John L. Watson. The late Rt. Rev. Manton East- 
burn, Bishop of Massachusetts, was also one of the rectors of the church. 
Rev. Phillips Brooks, D. D., the present rector, was installed three years 
ago. The congregation which worshiped at Trinity was one of the 
wealthiest in the city, embracing among its members some of the richest 
and most influential citizens of Boston. 



386 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


present building erected on the same spot. It is 
internally very quaint and interesting. Its sounding- 
board over the pulpit, its high, square box-pews, its 
double tier of galleries, in fact its whole appearance, 
attract the visitor’s attention. A tablet high above 
the entrance on the Washington street side of the 
tower gives concisely the main facts in its history. 
The Old South is frequently mentioned on the pages 
devoted to the history of Boston before and during 
the Revolution. When the meetings of citizens 
became too large to be accommodated in Faneuil 
Hall, then much smaller than now, they adjourned to 
this church. Here Joseph Warren stood and deliv¬ 
ered his fearless oration on the anniversary of the mas¬ 
sacre of March 5,\1770, in defiance of the threats of 
those in authority, and in the presence of the soldiery. 
Here were held the series of meetings that culminated 
in the destruction of the tea in the harbor. In 1775 
the British soldiers, eager to insult those by whom 
they were so cordially hated, but whom they held so 
completely in their power, occupied this meeting¬ 
house as a riding-school and place for cavalry drill. 
They established a grog shop in the lower gallery, 
which they partially preserved for spectators of their 
sport. The rest of the galleries were tom down, and 
the whole interior was stripped of its wood-work. 
The floor they covered with about two feet of dirt. 
At this time the church was without a pastor, and no 
new pastor was ordained until 1779. In 1782 the 
building was thoroughly repaired, and put in very 
much its present condition. The first election sermon 
was delivered in the Old South Church in 1712, and 
the ancient custom is still observed. As soon as the 
two branches of the Legislature have met and organ- 


BOSTON. 


387 

ized, the Governor is informed that the General Court 
“ is ready to attend divine service/’ the procession is 
formed, and the State Government marches to this 
historic building to hear a sermon by a preacher 
designated by the preceding Legislature. 

It was deemed most fortunate that this interesting 
historic landmark had escaped the flames. Before the 
people had had time fully to congratulate themselves 
upon its preservation, however, they were surprised 
by a proposition for its being wrested from its histori¬ 
cal and consecrated use, and converted into a post- 
office. The Church had already been taken for the 
uses of the soldiery in connection with the fire. 
Yielding to the need of the moment, it was for the 
second time in its career converted into barracks. 
The soldiers held it for this purpose for the three 
weeks of their continuance about the ruins. In the 
mean time, the eye of the Postmaster of Boston (a 
most energetic and persevering man) had been 
directed towards it as a site for the general office 
for the reception and distribution of letters. The 
Post-office, it w T ill be remembered, had been burnt out 
of the Merchants’ Exchange, its late quarters, and 
forced into Faneuil Hall. The new building which 
was being erected for it was so injured by the fire 
that it was doubtful if it could be used for a year or 
two in the future. Faneuil Hall was regarded as 
insecure and improper, even if its use could be 
allowed during that time. So the Postmaster fixed 
his purposes on the Old South. He succeeded in 
bringing the larger portion of the business community 
to his views of the need of utilizing it for the purpose. 
He then applied to the corporation of the society for 

its lease. There was a sharp resistance here, but it 

✓ 


388 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


was at length secured by a majority vote. Then the 
case was carried to the Legislature. By this time a 
controversy was aroused in the press and among the 
people in which much feeling was displayed. The 
majority, however, appeared to favor the project, on 
the ground that all considerations of sentiment must 
yield to business needs, reinforced by the fact that 
the attendance of worshipers was small, and the 
church was located inconveniently for those desiring 
to participate in its public services. 

When the case came to the Legislature, which was 
in extra session, a petition was sent to that body, 
headed by Charles Francis Adams, and signed by 
Robert C. Winthrop, George S. Hillard and others, 
protesting, on th^ ground of patriotism, reverence, 
and historical association, against the step. The 
Congregationalist ministers of the city, by a large 
majority, took similar action, and remonstrances came 
from out of the state also, signed by eminent men. 
The pastor and deacons of the Church had acquiesced 
on the ground that a large rent (forty thousand 
dollars per annum) was offered, and that much more 
could be accomplished in the interests of religion by 
the use of the money than by allowing the church to 
remain in its present building. To this it was 
answered that the Society was very rich—with one 
exception, the richest in the country—and that it 
ought not, for money considerations, to yield up what 
was in reality an historical and a religious trust. The 
controversy in the Legislature was animated; but the 
friends of the leasing triumphed, at the close of it, 
by a large majority. There is a prospect that the 
case may be carried to the courts for settlement, 
despite this decision. 


BOSTON. 


389 


The daily newspaper offices of Boston generally 
escaped the fire. The Transcript was the only one 
reached by it, though the Journal , the Traveller , the 
Globe , and the Herald , all had a very narrow escape. 
Several weeklies were burnt out. One—the Pilot , 
a Boman Catholic journal—lost very largely. There 
was an extraordinary amount of printing material 
consumed in book and job offices. Ten days after 
the fire there was but one of these, of the larger 
character, left in existence. The booksellers suffered 
very seriously from plates and material. lost in this 
way. 

The enormous wooden structure known as the 
Coliseum was the occasion of much uneasiness. Its 
location was more than a mile from the fire, and it 
was never regarded as in serious danger; in fact, it 
was made the receptacle of large quantities saved 
from the flames. But it was felt to be a threat to 
the general safety all the time, and to portend much 
mischief, if it should by accident or design become on 
fire. A special guard was set over it, and extraor¬ 
dinary precautions taken. As soon as the preliminary 
measures could be adopted, it was ordered to be 
taken down. For this purpose it w T as sold at auction 
for about a twelfth of its original cost, and was 
converted into lumber and kindling wood by its 
purchaser. 

The clergy of the city, without exception, preached 
upon the fire, the Sunday following its occurrence. 
An interesting session was held in the Old South 
Church where the soldiers were gathered, and 
addresses were made by its pastor, the Rev. Mr. 
Manning, and Rev. Mr. Murray, of Park street Church. 
It was regarded as a singular coincidence that Rev. 




FIGHTING FIliE. 




390 


Robert Collyer* so closely identified in the public 
mind with the Chicago fire, should have been in 
Boston throughout this conflagration, and should have 
preached upon it the Sunday following. 












CHAPTER XXII. 

CONCLUSION. 

ORE than a month had elapsed from the 
occurrence of the fire at the time this 
concluding chapter of 4 its history was 
written. Boston was yet better adapting 
herself to the new condition of things, 
and was still advancing in measures for 
the resuscitation of the city. Her Committee of 
Relief had organized and systematized its work. 
Men and women had been aided every day. Posi¬ 
tions had been found for large numbers. Those able 
to work in the burnt district were set at work 
removing its debris or otherwise aiding; those who 
were willing to work at trades, in and out of town, 
were provided with such places as were open; those 
w r ho could not be so cared for received temporary relief. 
The means provided for the Relief Committee were 
inadequate to its needs, and an application had gone 
out to the public for an addition of a hundred thou¬ 
sand dollars to the relief fund. Boston alone was 
appealed to for this, the committee expressing the 
belief that Boston had the resources to furnish it. 

23 ( 391 ) 




392 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


A new city government was about to be elected 
with a view to the needs of the city from the fire, as 
it was hoped in the beginning; but Boston politically 
was behind Chicago in appreciation of the nature of 
her situation, and in readiness to sacrifice to meet 
it, and the election was one in which private and 
political complications tended much to a disregard of 
the best interests of the city. The better public 
sentiment finally silenced this discreditable display in 
considerable degree; but there was still more of it 
than was pleasant to contemplate. 

The State Legislature had been in session two or 
three weeks. It had passed the City Loan Act, but 
the insurance measures were still unsettled. In the 
strife between tjie interests of insurance corporators 
and the presumed interests of the public that were 
antagonistic, there had been much debate, which had 
brought unexpected delay. 

The general self-reliant and energetic tone of the 
people who had suffered from the fire continued to 
exhibit itself in all its admirable characteristics. 
With many, the pressure of affliction was harder as 
the weeks had rolled on. The dry-goods trade had 
apparently received the severest blow, or had less 
resources to meet calamity. Several of the firms 
engaged in it were compelled to succumb, and to 
make compromises with creditors by paying a per¬ 
centage on their indebtedness. The boot and shoe 
trade stood out better. There were comparatively 
few failures in this branch of business. Its stocks had 
been lower and better covered by insurance, and the 
strength of its houses had been sustained by more 
capital in proportion to the business done. Trade 
everywhere had already felt severely the great loss, 


BOSTON. 393 

and was anticipating still further trial from this 
source. 

The spirit of the city generally was of the best 
While the people fully appreciated the calamity that 
had befallen them, and were keenly sympathetic 
towards their brethren who had been most heavily 
visited, they yet remembered the blessings left them. 
Boston had been stricken in little which the efforts of 
her people were not adequate to replace. There 
were private losses the personal value of which was 
incalculable, but almost nothing which was identified 
with the name of the city, or which belonged pecu¬ 
liarly to its people, was permanently annihilated. 
Stores could be rebuilt; trade could be resuscitated; 
hard labor and earnest effort would cause capital that 
had been consumed to be replaced. The public 
buildings of the city were untouched. Its archives 
were intact. Its works of art and of adornment were 
unvisited by the fire, except in the case of a few 
private collections. There was nothing that the 
flames had ravaged, by which Boston was known to 
the world, that time and perseverance could not 
restore. The public buildings of every character all 
remained—not even a school-house had been reached. 
There had been a fearful inroad upon the capital of 
the city. Fifty millions had been taken from men 
most of whom were making a good use of the money 
at their disposal. Years of hard and sometimes dis¬ 
couraging toil were necessary to replace this. But 
nobody doubted that it would be replaced, and, 
greatly as its loss was regretted, men thanked God 
that the situation was no worse. They accepted the 
. affliction, did their best to find a silver lining in the 
cloud, and then to profit from the lessons that calamity 


394 FIGHTING FIRE. 

had brought with it. That Boston was to rise 
from its ashes, and enter upon a new career of pros¬ 
perity, in the realization of which the sting of her 
affliction should, if not unfergotteiij at least cease to 
become the subject of repining, no one doubted. 










CHAPTER XXII. 
THE BOSTON FIRE. 


AN ADDRESS BY HENRY WARD BEECHER, 
Sunday Evening, November 10, 1872. 

/ 

l 

\ 

SUPPOSE that there is no one in this 
congregation that has not been made 
aware of the great disaster that has 
befallen and that still rests upon the city 
near to our borders, whose name is syn¬ 
onymous with imerican liberty, the city 
of Boston. No such c? 7 amity has ever before fallen 
upon it. It is a national disaster. To-day, while we 
have had this bright sun, it has shone with a lurid 
light through blackened clouds upon that city. Her 
bells have been silent, or rung out only alarms, and 
while we have gathered together in our places of 
worship or dwelt together in peace in our own 
houses, in that great city there have been no gather¬ 
ings except of crowds in the streets, and no peace. 
Her churches have been silent, and some of them 
consumed. How great the disaster we cannot yet 
say, but we know that street after street, through 

( 395 ) 




396 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the whole of the central and best business section of 
the city, the richest part of it, is reduced to crumbling 
ruins. There is no other city that could have offered 
such buildings to destruction. Granite—it is a child 
of fire, and would seem to be able to defy the flame; 
but it sparkled and cracked and was destroyed as if 
it were but chalk. I go back to my boyhood, a por¬ 
tion of which wag spent in Boston. I remember all 
the streets that have been desolated by this fire. I 
have run through them of errands ; I have played 
through them. I remember the stately old residences 
where the old families dwelt. Little by little the 
streets have been given up to business purposes, and 
gorgeous stores have taken the places of the proud 
residences. 

And such stores! what solidity, what height, what 
capacity ! It seemed as if ingenuity had concentrated 
in the building of them all its exercise; architecture 
has done its best; and yet the flame has puffed out 
its lips at them and they are gone. Things that 
seemed as though they would stand as long as the 
Pyramids are to-night in ruins. Looking down 
through those streets we s kerned to look through 
some rocky canon or some" lane cut through a solid 
mountain; and they are all gone as if they were 
rags. 

The sun went down last night smiling upon a great 
and prosperous city, when it rose this morning it 
glared upon a roaring storm and flame ; and to-night 
it sets upon a wnlderness of ashes. Imagination can¬ 
not compass the scene, the loss is so wide, so sudden, 
so entire, so contrary to all human chances. The 
disaster is in some respects unmeasured, unmeasur¬ 
able. The loss of products of skill, of brain-fruit, has 



BOSTON. 


397 


been transcendent. Men say $100,000,000 was lost 
in twelve hours. How much that is neither you nor 
I can understand. The loss of machinery, of fabrics, 
of buildings, the blotting out of so much wealth, is no 
small loss. The vast flocks had yielded up their 
fleeces through the season and stored them here; the 
ships had brought in the fruits and spices and goods 
from every quarter of the globe, and they were 
waiting for the opening winter market. Now all are 
gone. The loss of capital is an immense loss, both 
to the city and to the nation. It is ruin to hundreds 
and thousands. No mind can take in the conception 
of this magnified, aggravated loss. Hundreds are 
bankrupt. The man yesterday at ease is to-day full 
of trouble. The man that looked through a go den 
avenue yesterday, to-daydooks through an avenue gray 
with ashes. Yesterday, gold ; to-day, red-hot coals. 

More than all this is the sudden precipitation of 
calamity upon the poor driven from their houses by 
the fiery sword. Pictures need not be waited for; in 
imagination we can see those that had little losing 
that little; and -the little of the poor is more loss 
to him than all that the rich man can lose. Huddled 
in corners, driven out from street after street, unable 
to help themselves, hustled in the distracted crowd, 
and already despoiled, they must needs suffer yet 
more through the cold of the approaching winter. 
A year ago, Chicago was destroyed; now it is Boston. 
Then, it was the city of the plain, now the old city 
of the coast. Last year, the city whose history is yet 
to be made in the far West; this year, the city whose 
history is part of the history of the continent. So 
East and West have been joined together in a com¬ 
mon calamity. 



398 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Upon no other place could a calamity have fallen 
which would have touched so universally the national 
feelings as upon the city of Boston. From this city 
sprung the earliest American ideas. By American 
ideas I mean something definite, something tangible ; 
I mean a conception of government that springs 
from the people and is retained by the people; I 
mean ideas of faith in the self-governing capacities of 
man when rightly educated and directed by free 
institutions. I mean by American ideas a faith that 
the whole of society is of more importance to the 
world’s life than the precious upper classes, the few 
cultured and polished men. Boston stands for Ameri¬ 
can ideas. Our earliest heroes of liberty were of 
Boston—Sam. Adams, John Adams, Hancock, Frank¬ 
lin, Otis, Quincy, Warren, Winthrop, Ames,—noble 
names in a yet larger brotherhood. If it was not 
from Massachusetts that Virginia kindled her torch 
'when the mother country made war upon us and we 
gained our independence and the King was disowned 
and government was set up, and when magistrates 
knew not how to begin right, it certainly was to the 
Adamses of Massachusetts that Jefferson was indebted 
for his earliest notions of the best methods of inaugu¬ 
rating the new government. And during all the 
period of the American War, from this fountain the 
people of the nation drank. There never was a day 
when old Massachusetts failed ; there never has been 
a day since when liberty was imperiled, that Boston 
flinched. It has been the head of this nation in the 
best sense of the term. Here began American 
history ; here American institutions commenced; not 
that there are not other places with earlier founda¬ 
tions, but here are the earliest dates of liberty; the 


BOSTON. 399 

stream began to flow here, which has been as a river 
of life to this nation ever since. 

Other States have fallen from their eminent posi¬ 
tion, have gone down and down and down, but old 
Massachusetts has never taken a step backward. 
Boston has never ceased to be a brain full of vitality, 
and full of the vitality of knowledge of liberty and 
of religion. Hated it has been because it has been 
felt; hated because misrule hates rule, because dis¬ 
order hates imperious order, because passion hates 
intelligence, because anarchy hates regulated liberty. 
And yet, with whatever prejudices she may have been 
assailed, there is not on this shore nor in all the 
plains, nor in the whole realm of these confederated 
States, a considerable town or city that does not owe 
a debt of gratitude to the city of Boston. She 
has given something to the history of every place 
that thrives on the continent. The whole nation 
has been her debtor; for schools, for literature, for 
scholars—a noble band who from the earliest days, 
and never more illustrious than to-dav, have been her 
glory. Nowhere else has there been so large a class 
of scholars, or, if I may say so, changing the phrase, 
so large a scholarly class, who have expended so 
much in making the highest education free and 
accessible to the common people down to the very 
bottom of society. Call Boston aristocratic, smile at 
her peculiarities as you will her colleges make 
amends for all. There are no such common schools 
to-day on the globe as hers; there is nowhere else 
such provision as that which she gives in music, in 
mechanical drawing, in the fine arts, in all the ele¬ 
mental studies. To the sons of her draymen and the 
sons of her emigrants, black and white, the poorest 


400 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


and lowest, to all she opens all the resources in her 
schools, without money and without price; and edu¬ 
cates them more munificently than the college of a 
hundred years ago did the sons of the rich. Her 
history is written in the best things that have befallen 
this land. Shame on that man who in the day of 
her disaster has no tears for her! God could not 
have laid the hand of fire on any other city that 
would have touched the vital chord of sympathy so 
widely as this. It is not a local calamity, it is 
national. It touches the heart and the patriotism of 
every man. It enlists the sympathy of every man 
that rejoices in refinement—of every man that loves 
what is noble in literature or what is noble in 
American history 

Let us not, in looking upon so great, great a calam¬ 
ity as this, be led into moral speculation as to the 
counsel of God in sending this fiery calamity. In 
other days, it w T as not strange that men tried to inter¬ 
pret the foregoing reasons which inspired Divine Pro¬ 
vidences ; and some may say that this calamity was 
sent to humble the proud hearts of the people of 
Boston. As if, if God sent calamities to humble 
proud hearts, there were a spot on the globe that 
would be spared—as if New York or Brooklyn would 
escape! Shall one pupil take all the punishment 
when the whole school is at fault? It may be said 
it is sent to punish avarice. Who shall dare to say 
that this disaster lias been sent as a chastisement, or 
that it has come in any other way than as summer 
or winter comes ? There was a divine reason—viz., 
that men had unconsciously set at naught great laws. 
Can a sparrow fall to the ground without the notice 
of the Maker ? No ; but they do fall, and He sees it, 


BOSTON. 


401 


and yet they fall. There is not an iceberg that 
breaks with thunder from the solitary North to sail 
down to lower latitudes that is not also a creature of 
providence, and it is the providence of the adminis¬ 
tration of nature’s laws. There is a providence of 
God working through all life. He does work through 
great natural laws. God sends cholera upon one 
nation, and plague upon another; but who shall say 
it was because one nation was Mohammedan, or 
another was Catholic, or another was Protestant ? 
The prophets are all dead, and there are no author¬ 
ized interpreters of God’s motives. There is a moral 
use in this calamity, but it is one that looks towards 
the future. It asks not why this was done, but, this 
being done, how shall we make benefit out of the 
disaster ? Cities which are the grandest products of 
civilization, have had the most stumbling irregulari¬ 
ties of history. Some have grown almost by accident; 
although certain great laws determined their position, 
yet much is left to bungling chance or individual 
caprice and whim. Why should there be narrow 
streets? Individual rights have been permitted to 
block up the way and hinder public advancement, 
and this has prevented economy and set at naught 
wisdom, cleanliness, sewerage. 

Things which are comparatively unimportant when 
families live in the fields become of vital interest when 
ten thousands of families are huddled together in large 
cities, where hundreds of thousands of men are making 
malaria by their breath, by their offal, by all their 
filth. Is it wise, then, to dwell thus ? And yet men 
learned nothing of these things till the plague taught 
them. The fever and the plague were the architects 
of London; the plague and the fever, the cholera and 


402 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


desolation, have been the architects of many and many 
a city; and these diseases are but nature unrolling 
secret truth, walking forth a teacher, a school-master 
instructing men by their disasters, and turning blun¬ 
ders into benefit. Famine taught the necessity of hus¬ 
bandry. David thought that the day of pestilence 
was because he numbered the people. Are we, then, 
to have a pestilence every ten years when we take the 
census ? Improvident people, people like the Italians, 
that have shorn their land of the forests, and so have 
their seasons of deluge, believe famines to be the visi¬ 
tations of Providence, and they pray that they may 
be averted. Is it not God? Yes, but men do not 
understand what he says. ' They say, Pray and repent; 
and that is all ve ry well—these things ought to be 
done, but the other not left undone. The voice of 
God warns man not to shear the earth of its forests, 
nor to live in uncleanly, crowded streets. The voice 
' of God in the pestilence warns man to live healthily. 
The voice of nature teaches man by terrible lessons 
how to improve human life and human cities. I think 
I may say without any fear of contradiction that this 
fire is not an accident; it is not an event sprung off 
from the great natural law T s. Was it right to have 
streets so narrow that the flame could reach across so 
easily? People say it has been so for three hundred 
years, and there has been no fire. Yes: so there are 
plants that take a hundred years to bloom, but they 
do bloom every hundred years. There is a city not 
far from here that may learn a lesson about this one 
of these days. Was it necessary that buildings should 
be carried up story upon story, not fire-proof, vast in 
height, and that then a conflagration-cap should be 
set upon them, quick to take fire and out of the reach 


BOSTON. 


403 


of the firemen? Was it wise to lay the foundations 
of them solid, to carry up the first story fire-proof, the 
second story fire-proof—the third, the fourth, the fifth 
story all fire-proof—and then put a Mansard roof on 
the top of all, to take fire and scatter sparks around 
the neighborhood? Those great buildings were ad¬ 
mirable for business purposes, and now, as it proves, 
although not intended by the architect, admirable for 
fire. 

But territory is small and land is valuable, and they 
cannot afford to build other than narrow streets ! Can 
they afford to burn up again ? Do you suppose if the 
streets had been broad, wide avenues, had there been 
interjected here and there an open square or some 
small park, would there have been a^iy such conflagra¬ 
tion ? Do you not see what contracted lanes there 
were—a direct provocation and temptation to fire, 
with an invitation to the fire-devil sitting on every 
Mansard roof? If Boston repeats her error now after 
suffering, it will be because this fire has been without 
profit. We also learn that it is not enough in con¬ 
structing public buildings that they should be made 
convenient for business. Every complete business 
house should be a fire-department as well; there 
should be such instrumentalities, such hydraulic con¬ 
trivances, that every house could take care of itself. 
We have learned how to build hollow walls, how to 
carry air and light and heat and water through all 
the house, and it is but a step beyond this to make 
every house an engine house, and every man a fire¬ 
man ; every building fire-proof, or with the means of 
extinguishing fire. Here are lessons to be learnt by 
this fire. 

Instead of asking if God meant to humble Boston, 
let us look into the future and see what are the les- 


404 


FIGHTING FI11E. 


sons to be learned from such a conflagration as this. 
Let us hope that in ten years hence Boston, that to¬ 
night mourns the calamity, will give thanks to God for 
the benefaction. Meanwhile, there are some thoughts 
that are proper. You should never see a calamity be¬ 
fall another man without taking home the considera¬ 
tion, “ It might befall me.” When death knocks at 
your neighbor’s door, it may be on its way to you. 
When blight desolates another man’s field, it is to teach 
you likewise that your own fields may come to canker 
and sorrow. When great disasters befall the cities on 
the fight and on the left it is well for us to think what 
we would do if the fiery angel should beat us down. 
It may come. There is nothing sure but death and the 
beyond; the coffiri and the grave stand at par all the 
time. Work: serve not less cheerfully for yourself 
and your own, but not without the thought that these 
things may be taken away from you. How many are 
there who, if wealth and financial influence were taken 
from them, could stand ? Live for manhood and not 
for externalities. How solemnly do the words of our 
Master come home to us, a Lay not up for yourselves 
treasure upon earth, where moth and rust do corrupt 
and thieves break through and steal! But lay up for 
yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth 
nor rust can corrupt, and thieves do not break through 
and steal; for where your treasure is there will your 
heart be also.” 


THE NEW YORK FIRE OF 1835 
CHAPTER XXIII. 


The Frost King and the Fire King.—Night Wind and Flame —The Fire¬ 
men paralyzed. Rapidity ot the Conflagration.— u Fire-brands, Arrows, 
and Death.”—“ Pray to God, for all Human Aid is vain.”—'Watching 
the Fire from the Dome of the Exchange.—Dress Goods and Groceries 
as Fuel.—Burning of a Church.—Sublime Spectacle.—Begging for 
Gunpowder.—Carnival of Thieves and Plunderers.—Rocking a Bundle 
of Dry Goods to sleep.—A Picturesque Fire Company.—Walking Home 
fast Asleep.—Merchants going to survey their own Ruin.—Frightful 
Losses.—Origin of the Fire.—Gas again ! 


INCE the conflagration of Moscow no calam¬ 
ity by fire, so extensive and so terrible, 
had for twenty three years befallen any 
city in the world, as that which took place 
in New York, December 16th, 1835. 

The fire broke out about nine o’clock in 
the evening, in the store of Comstock & Andrews in 
Merchant street, in the triangular block formed by 
Wall, William, and Pearl streets; in twenty minutes 
the entire block of wholesale stores, in the very 
centre of the mercantile business of the city, was in 
a blaze, and the destroying element was rapidly 
extending its ravages in every direction. The 

(405) 




FIGHTING FIRE. 


406 

weather had been unusually severe for several days; 
but on the night in question the cold had increased 
to an intensity which has seldom been exceeded. 
The thermometer stood below zero, with a breeze 
from the N. N. W., amounting nearly to a gale, and 



THE GREAT FIRE IN NEW YORK— 1835. 

THE BLACK BLOCKS ARE THOSE DESTROYED BY FIRE. X SHOWS WHERE THE 

FIRE COMMENCED. 


the fire had obtained a tremendous advantage in the 
most compactly and loftily built portion of the city, 
filled with silks, cloths, liquors, and other combusti¬ 
bles, and intersected only by narrow streets ,which 






NEW YORK. 


407 


could interpose no barrier to the progress of the 
flames. The rally of the Fire Department was not 
made with its accustomed alacrity, owing to the 
unparalleled severity of the weather, to the fact that 
there had been so many alarms within the week,, 
and so large an amount of harassing service required 
of the firemen. 

The weather was so intensely cold as to render the 
efficient working of the engines impossible. The 
consequence was that the fire held the mastery 
throughout the night, spreading with great and 
destructive rapidity. It was an awful night for New 
York, and the country; but we can neither describe 
the grandeur of the spectacle nor its terror, nor the 
desolation brought more distinctly to view by the 
morning light. The fact that the efforts of the 
firemen were powerless on account of the almost 
instantaneous freezing of the water in the engines, 
and the benumbing effects of the cold, increased the 
consternation which prevailed among thousands of 
the agitated multitude who were witnesses of this 
calamity—many of them doomed to stand and see 
the destruction of their own fortunes without being 
able to raise a finger for their rescue. 

The efforts to check the ravages of the conflagra¬ 
tion in the quarter to which the wind was vehemently 
urging it, of course proved utterly unavailing. The 
water so plenteously thrown upon it by hydrants and 
engines was blown back in the faces, and fell con- 
gealed at the feet of the firemen, or seemed only to 
add to the fury of the flames. William street was 
passed—Pearl street overleaped—next Water street 
—then Front—and the very shipping in the docks 
of the East River was endangered, and only saved 

24 


f 


408 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


by strenuous exertions, and its removal into the 
stream. 

At ten o’clock forty of the most valuable dry goods 
stores in the city were burned down or on fire. 

No barrier but that of Nature could be interposed 
on the east, and it was with great difficulty that 
the fire could be prevented from extending its 
ravages across Wall street. The Tontine Building 
(Hudson’s News Room) was indeed once on fire, but 
happily extinguished. The extraordinary strength 
of the Wall street buildings—many of them resisting 
firmly the assaults of the destroyer, and none of the 
walls crumbling and falling into the street, as is too 
generally the case—did more for the safety of those 
north of the street than anything within the power 
of human effort. For hours it was doubtful whether 
the flames could be arrested here, and if not, there 
was little hope that they could be before reaching 
Maiden lane. 

During the entire night the scene was one of 
awful terror and indescribable grandeur. The drought 
of the season had contributed to the combustibility 
of the material, and the rapidity with which house 
after house, range after range of buildings was 
wrapped in flames was astonishing. The wind being 
high large flakes of fire were borne whirling aloft 
through the dark vault of heaven with fearful 
splendor. From the direction of the wind the city 
of Brooklyn was in great danger, and the brands of 
fire were carried as far as Flatbush on Long Island. 

The buildings in Exchange Place having taken 
fire, the flames soon communicated to the Merchants’ 
Exchange, which had been supposed to be secure 
from the fire, and where a large amount of goods had 



NEW YORK. 


409 


been deposited for safety. The fire reached the 
dome of that magnificent structure about half-past 
one o’clock, after having raged in the vicinity for 
five long hours. It crept silently and secretly along 
till it burst forth above the summit of the dome, 
sending forth volumes of flames and smoke to an 
immense height. The basement and the rotunda 
were entirely covered with goods, which had been 
carried there for safety, no one imagining for a 
moment that the fire could extend so far. The 
flames spread with fearful rapidity, and at four 
o’clock the dome had fallen with a tremendous 
crash, burying all beneath it in a gulf of burning, 
smoking ruins, and shrouding forever from view the 
noble statue of Hamilton. 

Onward, still onward, sped the demon of destruc¬ 
tion ! The hydrants were exhausted—the engines 
had long been frozen up, with their hose like cannon. 
Westward, the South Dutch Church, which had been 
made the hasty depository of stores of precious 
goods, was in flames, which threatened to extend to 
Broad street throughout. 

"When we reached Wall street, near Water,” 
writes an eye-witness of the fire, " the Tontine Coffee 
House had caught, and dark smoke in huge masses 
tinged with flickering flashes of bright flame, was 
bursting from all the upper windows. 

"Our great fire travelled south and west faster 
than a man could walk. Water froze in all the 
gutters; thick ice coated the hydrants; crunched in 
the hose-pipes that encumbered the streets, and lay 
in " floes ” where there was a shadow from the heat 
and the flame. But in a little while no water was 
wanted. Engines were soon useless, and no ener- 


410 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


getic ( Sykesy ’ was required to ‘ take the butt/ 
Clouds of smoke, like dark mountains suddenly rising 
into the air, were succeeded by long banners of flame, 
rushing to the zenith, and roaring for their prey. 
Street after street caught the terrible torrent, until 
over acre after acre there was rolling and booming 
an ocean of flame! ‘ All of this I saw, and part of 

it I was/ The printing office of the Knickerbocker, 
at first in South William street, was moved three 
times far beyond the prevailing fire, but was gradu¬ 
ally followed by the raging enemy, and finally 
devoured. 

“ As we were standing upon the roof of the 
Exchange, looking down upon the scene where in 
mid-progress, buildings far beyond the line of fire, 
and in no contacjfc with it, burst in flames from the 
interior. The same thing, I observe, happened in 
Chicago, and was attributed to incendiaries; but there 
were no incendiaries suspected in our great fire. 
What latent power enkindled the inside of these 
advanced buildings, while externally they were 
untouched ? A scientific writer at the time con¬ 
tended, I think in the old Daily Advertiser, that at 
a certain period there is what he called an ‘inflam¬ 
mable vacuum ’ in the air, which is self-igniting and 
irresistible. Perhaps a hundred years or so from now 
some safeguard against this mysterious element, now 
lying latent and sleeping in nature, may be discov¬ 
ered. It is not so very long since the old tea-kettle 
first lifted its lid to the science of steam, and talking 

7 O 

round the world under water is a much younger 
wonder.” 

In that unusually large space called Hanover 
Square, where everybody thought the goods piled 


NEW YORK. 


411 


would be perfectly safe, there was accumulated from 
the stock of all the French stores, a mass of silks, 
satins, laces, cartons of dresses, capes, cashmere shawls, 
and richest kinds of fancy articles, forming a pile 
sixty feet wide by twenty-five in height, or nearly one 
hundred feet square. In a few minutes afterwards a 
gust of flame, like a streak of lightning, came from 
the northeast corner ^building, and shooting across the 
square, blown by the strong wind, set fire to the 
entire mass, which in p few moments it consumed to 
cinders, and then communicated to the houses op¬ 
posite. 

The handsome church of the Rev. Dr. Matthews, 
Garden street, which had been made a depository for 
goods in the early part of the fire, for a long while 
resisted the mass of flames in their course towards 
Broad street. The bright gold ball and star above it 
on the highest point of the spire, gleamed brilliantly, 
and still while they were both shining on the deep 
blue concave with an intensity of splendor which 
attracted general remark, gave one surge and fell in all 
their glory into the heap of chaos beneath them. 

A man was caught in the act of setting fire to the 
house at the corner of Stone and Broad streets. It is 
scarcely possible to conceive that there could exist 
such a fiend as this in human shape, without 
supposing him to be either a maniac or drunk with 
liquor. It would seem, however, to have been done 
with a diabolical design, when it is considered that 
the fearful apprehensions of the whole of that part of 
the city were directed to this point, lest the fire 
would cross it and reach the Battery. 

At various points in the progress of the fire desper¬ 
ate struggles were made to arrest its course, but with- 


412 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


out success. How could sucli an avaianche of fire be 
checked ? The supply of water was very scarce, for 
this, be it remembered, was before the days of the 
Croton aqueduct, and the bitter cold congealed the 
water almost before it could be drawn from the 
hydrants. A last resort was had to gunpowder. It is 
not to be doubted that an earlier resort to its use 
would have saved millions. TJie regulations, how¬ 
ever, of New York and Brooklyn, remove powder at 
such a distance, that great delay was inevitable ; for 
at the navy-yard there was no powder, and though a 
most bitter night, and against a head tide, a navy 
barge was sent to the magazine at Red Hook, a dis¬ 
tance probably of four or five miles from the yard, for 
a supply. Meantime, however, some was received 
from Governor’s Island, and with that commenced the 
destruction to save. 

Along South street, from the Fulton Ferry to Wall 
street, and up Wall to the Exchange, the United States 
marines, eighty in number, formed a complete chain 
of sentinels, thus affording great protection to the 
property exposed. 

Great benefits also resulted from the civic patrols 
formed in several of the wards. Nevertheless, the 
loss resulting from depredation was very great. As 
usual, those miscreants who always avail themselves 
of such opportunities to plunder their neighbors, did 
not neglect the present occasion. The extent of 
their depredations was commensurate with that of the 
conflagration itself. More than ninety robbers were 
taken in the act of carrying away property during 
the night of the fire; and the ensuing day nearly two 
hundred more were arrested for having in their 
possession property which was stolen from the fire. 


NEW YORK. 


413 

The rooms of the Police Office were filled with articles 
of almost every description, which were taken from 
thieves, to the value of $10,000. 

The scene at the Police Office after the breaking 
out of the fire, was heart-rending. The squalid 
misery of a greater part of those taken with the 
goods in their possession, the lies and prevarications 
to which they resorted to induce the magistrate not 
to commit them to prison, their screechings and wail¬ 
ings when they found they must relinquish the 
splendid prizes they had made during the raging of 
the fire, and the numbers in which they were brought 
by the police and military, exceeded any scene of a 
similar kind on record. For three days and nights, 
every place capable of detention was crammed 
with these miserable objects—sometimes as many as 
one hundred being in confinement at the same 
moment. Hundreds were discharged without deten¬ 
tion or other punishment than merely taking from 
them their plunder; and but very few of the whole 
number, even those who had stolen hundreds of dol¬ 
lars’ worth, were ever convicted, in consequence of 
the impossibility of the identification of the property 
stolen. 

On the second night after the conflagration, a 
couple of gentlemen observed a stout Irishwoman 
making up Pearl street, near the corner of Wall 
street, with a large bundle under her cloak. When 
she saw gentlemen looking at her, she immediately 
commenced singing—“ Hush-a-by, baby,” etc. The 
gentlemen thinking the poor baby was quite worri¬ 
some, offered their aid to quiet its infant restlessness. 
(( Oh, bless your honors, she’s asleep now.” The gen¬ 
tlemen still persisted in having a peep at the bloom- 


414 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


ing little cherub. She resisted, but it was no go. 
On opening the cloak, they found that the dear little 
creature, in the terror of the moment, had actually 
changed into an armful of the richest silks and satin 
goods, slightly burnt at the ends. The affectionate 
mother was immediately secured. 

It w r as almost impossible to discriminate the goods 
which lay on each side of the pavement in every 
direction, and in every street in the First Ward. All 
kinds and descriptions of dry goods, groceries, hard¬ 
ware, furniture, books and papers, were huddled 
together almost without owners. On South street the 
wharves were crowded with casks, crates, chests, 
pipes, hogsheads, etc. It was lamentable to see the 
piles of costly furniture broken and heaped up, like 
worthless rubbish; rich merchandise, silks, satins, 
broadcloths, and every species of fancy goods, tram¬ 
pled under feet, packages half burnt, boxes of cutlery 
burst open and their contents scattered about on the 
ground. 

The Battery and Bowling Green were thickly covered 
with piles of goods, some in boxes, others just as they 
were snatched from the shelves. Marines, with fixed 
bayonets, patrolled among these heaps of goods to pro¬ 
tect them from thieves. All eyes were fixed upon 
the vast volumes of dense black smoke, rolling away 
before the wind-, flames darting and roaring from the 
roofs and windows of whole blocks, walls tumbling to 
the ground, and the firemen worn out by their exer¬ 
tions, and almost discouraged from further efforts, and 
vainly striving against the fire, which seemed to mock 
human skill and power. 

As the night waned the weather grew colder and 
colder. The firemen were compelled to take the fine 


NEW YORK. 425 

blankets saved, and cutting a hole through them, con¬ 
vert them into temporary cloaks, in which they were 
seen at day-light dragging home their engines, many 
of them so exhausted by fatigue that they were asleep 
as they walked. One entire company, thus accoutred, 
had artificial wreaths and bunches of artificial flowers, 
of the richest kind, in their caps, taken from the 
wreck of matter, and presenting a very singular 
contrast with their begrimed faces and jaded ap¬ 
pearance. 

A novel spectacle occurred on the night of the fire 
at the head of one of the slips. A large quantity of 
turpentine, piled up in barrels, caught the flames and 
burnt with great fury, being, as is well known, one of 
the most inflammable substances that there is. It ran 
down in a stream like burning lava into the dock, 
upon the surface, and spread out until it had reached 
several hundred yards into the river, being lighter 
than water, and therefore floating upon it, giving the 
appearance of the river being on fire. 

It is supposed that a thousand baskets of cham¬ 
pagne were broken and destroyed, the tops being 
unceremoniously knocked off, and the contents drunk 
up by the crowds surrounding the fire cand working. 
An immense quantity of baskets of champagne were 
seen floating in the docks, and cheese and provisions 
were seen scattered there and about the ships. 

Fire and frost had conspired to lay waste the city. 
When the sun rose on the morning of the 17 th the 
flames still kept their roaring way unchecked save 
where the cakes of ice fringed the chill current of the 
East river in South street. Old men are now living 
who, then in the prime of life, had passed a night in 
slumbers undisturbed by dream of disaster, and coming 


416 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


down Broadway saw the smoke cloud which hung like 
a great pall over the burning city, but little suspected 
their utter ruin till they saw the piles of smouldering 
ashes and red hot bricks beneath which the garnered 
fortunes of a life work had been buried. 

Soon after noon the flames were arrested and the 
citizens had time to survey the desolation and com¬ 
pute the losses. 

Nearly the entire business portion of the city had 
been laid in ruins and nearly every insurance com¬ 
pany was insolvent, for five hundred and thirty great 
warehouses and most of their contents had been de¬ 
stroyed, making a total loss of nearly fifteen millions 
dollars. 

The buildings, on the following streets were burned: 
South side of Wall street from William to East River 
street, including the Merchants’ Exchange, also from 
William to Broad street; Exchange street—on both 
sides, from Broad to William and Merchant streets; 
Merchant street—on both sides from Wall street to 
Hanover Square ; Pearl street—both sides, from Wall 
street to Coenties slip; Stone street—both sides; from 
Hanover square to the head of Coenties slip; Exchange 
street, from Pearl to Broad street; Water street—from 
Coffee-house slip to Coenties slip; south side of Coffee¬ 
house slip from Pearl to East River street; Old slip— 
both sides, from Pearl to East River street; Coenties 
slip—north side, from Pearl to East River street; 
Jones’s Lane, Governeur’s Lane, Cuyler’s alley, and a 
part of Milk street. In all, seventeen blocks of build¬ 
ings, of the largest and most costly description, were 
totally destroyed. 

Those who were acquainted with old New York 
will see that the seat of its greatest commercial trans- 



BOSTON. 


417 

actions was almost entirely destroyed. It is not likely 
that the destruction of any given section of any other 
city in the world, of equal extent, would have involved 
a greater destruction of capital, or ruined the fortunes 
of a larger number of men. 

As the origin of this destructive fire seems to have 
an important bearing upon the effect of gas as one of 
the causes of conflagrations, we subjoin an abstract 
of the report of the committee appointed to investi¬ 
gate the origin of the fire. 

From a mass of testimony received from numerous 
* merchants, clerks, and others, under oath, it appeared 
to be incontrovertibly established that the fire origi¬ 
nated in the store No. 25 Merchant street, and that it 
was seen simultaneously in the first and fourth stories 
of that building, occupied by Messrs. Comstock & An¬ 
drews, the two intermediate stories occupied on the 
Pearl street side by Mr. Henry Baltad. That a report 
like an explosion of a gas pipe was heard in No. 25, to 
proceed from No. 28, and soon after the flames seemed 
to have been enkindled on the first floor, and shot up 
with the rapidity of lightning through the scuttles in 
the several floors to the upper story and through the 
roof. And it was the opinion of the examinants that 
it must have been produced by the bursting of a gas 
pipe and the distribution of the gas, until it came in 
contact with the coal in the stove or grate, by which 
it was ignited. The store No. 25 had been closed a 
little after five o’clock, and the fires well secured to 
guard against any accident or injury therefrom. This 
was the result of a long and critical investigation, and 
proves that no blame is to be attached to any one. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 
THE GREAT PORTLAND FIRE. 


The Beauty of Portland.—Its Disasters in the Past.—A Bright Morning 
and a Lurid Evening.—The Fire Fiend Painting Hell on the Sky.— 
The Career of the Flames.—Wiping out the city.—Floating Down upon 
a Sea of Fire.—A Pretty Pickle.—An absent-minded old Lady.— 
Wandering among the Ruins.—Moralizing over the Instability of 
Wealth.—A Letter from Hon. P. W. Chandler.—Counting up the 
losses. 


HE City of Portland, on the 4th of July, 
1866, was one of the finest cities in the 
Union. The beauty of its location, and 
the magnificent prospect by which it is 
^ environed, have long been the admiration 
of tourists, and the pride and boast of 
its citizens. Situated on an elevated peninsula, 
jutting into a land-locked and island-dotted harbor 
in Casco Bay, its wide streets shaded by huge elms, 
which have gained for it the name of the forest city; 
its fine public buildings and elegant private resi¬ 
dences ; the delightful scenery seaward, over the far- 
reaching waters of Casco Bay, with its emerald isles; 
the ocean and rocky shores of the Cape, and landward 

( 418 ) 














PORTLAND. 


419 


the lofty summits of the White Mountains looming 
up like great blue storm-clouds upon the sky, formed 
all together a combination. 

Since 1632, the first year of its settlement, it had 
been subjected to many severe disasters. In 1675 it 
was a flourishing town, but in the Indian war of that 
year it was sacked by the savages, who destroyed 
every vestige of improvement, and prostrated by 
firebrand and tomahawk the whole settlement in 
indiscriminate ruin. Again in 1690 the place was 
attacked by the French and Indians, the houses 
burned, and many of the settlers killed. Fort Loyal, 
which stood at the foot of India street, was besieged 
and captured, and the garrison carried off prisoners 
to Canada. A third time it was destroyed by the 
British under Mowatt, in 1775. Anchoring his feet 
off the town, he bombarded the place while it was yet 
occupied by women and children. All the compact 
part of the town was destroyed, the total number of 
buildings burned being 414, of which 136 were dwel¬ 
ling houses. The situation of the inhabitants after 
the fire was one of great distress and suffering, and 
the town remained desolate for years. 

For more than three-quarters of a century after the 
Revolutionary War, Portland had enjoyed an almost 
unintermitting period of great prosperity. During 
the past twenty years the enterprise of its merchants 
and business men had largely increased the commer¬ 
cial relations of the city. The extension of railroad 
lines, the establishment of steamboat routes, and its 
advantageous geographical position, had given it a 
gradual but substantial growth, and opened before its 
citizens the prospect of its becoming one of the most 
important seaports of the country. The population 


420 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


of the city by the census taken in November, 1865, 
was 30,124, and its total valuation for the same year 
was $28,021,570. 

And now in one night a disaster was to fall upon 
the city before which all the disasters of its colonial 
history were to dwindle into insignificance. In one 
night one-third of this vast amount of property was 
to be swept away! One-third of the area of the city, 
covering a space of three hundred and twenty acres 
in the very heart of the city, was to be made a deso¬ 
late and appalling waste. More than eight miles of 
streets, lined with substantial and elegant and costly 
buildings, and thronged by a busy and happy people, 
were to become an indistinguishable mass of ruins, 
amid which the houseless people would fail to recog¬ 
nize their once happy homes. All the banks, eight 
of the churches, all the newspaper offices and the 
lawyers 1 offices, one-half the manufacturing establish¬ 
ments, most of the large stores, hundreds of dwelling 
houses, and nearly all the public buildings, including 
the magnificent City Hall, were to be laid in ashes, 
and what but the day before was a beautiful and pros¬ 
perous city was to become a scene of desolation mel¬ 
ancholy to contemplate. Kicli and poor were to be 
involved in one common ruin. Hundreds who had 
been in comfortable circumstances suddenly were to 
find themselves houseless, homeless, and penniless. 
Fifteen hundred buildings were to be burned and ten 
thousand people were to be turned into the streets. 
Between two sunsets more than ten millions of dol¬ 
lars worth of the taxable property of the city was to 
be swept out of existence. 

But we are anticipating. The sun rose brightly on 
the morning of July 4th, 1866, fit harbinger of another 


VIEW OF PORTL 










































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































422 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


anniversary of American Independence. Thousands 
of country people had flocked to the city and tens of 
thousands, both strangers and citizens, were looking 
forward to the enjoyment of the national holiday. 
The day passed pleasantly away with the parades and 
amusements which it afforded. It was near five 
o’clock in the afternoon and the joyous crowds were 
looking forward eagerly to the letting off of the fire¬ 
works in the evening, when the tocsin sounded and 
the cry of fire was heard. At the same time a puff 
of smoke went up before the eyes of the crowd in the 
direction of the water streets. The fire had caught on 
the outside of Degnio’s boat builders’ shop, a wooden 
building on Commercial, near the foot of High street. 
It was undoubtedly caused by boys throwing fire¬ 
crackers in front of the shop. When first seen, it 
seemed a small matter, easily extinguished. But a 
strong southerly wind was blowing, which took the 
flames and cinders diagonally across the city. Com¬ 
mercial, be it remembered, is the great wholesale bus¬ 
iness avenue on the front or harbor side of the city. 
The wind drove the fire speedily away from this street 
up into the higher region of York street, and thus the 
commercial houses and the wharves and shipping for¬ 
tunately escaped. 

The flames, quickly enveloping the small wooden 
buildings on Commercial street, and the brick build¬ 
ing occupied as a spice factory by L. J. Hill & Co., 
next attacked the Portland Sugar House, an immense 
brick structure, which seemed capable of withstand¬ 
ing the most fiery assaults. But a tongue of flame 
shot up from the spire of the building, and the 
interior was soon in a blaze. The burning sugar sent 
out a volume of black smoke, which streamed over 


PORTLAND. 


423 


tlie city like the black banner of some advancing 
horde of pitiless Yandals. Those who saw this black 
flag of the fire—people far away, engaged in the 
amusements of the day—did not dream of the evil 
it presaged. 

Since the introduction of steam fire engines w T e had 
become accustomed to see ordinary fires so speedily 
extinguished that the alarm of fire scarce gave us 
any uneasiness. It was only when the leaping flames 
showed themselves high up above the intervening 
ridge of the city that those dwelling on its opposite 
side felt that the fire was becoming serious. 

The black banner of smoke still waved over the 
city. Cinders began to fly thick and fast in the 
direction of the wind. Two dwelling houses on 
North street, on the summit of Mount Joy, over a 
mile away from the fire, were in this way destroyed. 
Those who went hurrying into the city from the 
Westbrook side saw a fire raging at each extremity 
of the city. Staples & Son’s iron foundry, next the 
Sugar House, was ^soon on fire, and together with 
N. P. Richardson’s stove foundry adjoining, was 
leveled to the ground. The fire, now sweeping up 
into York street and “ Gorham’s Corner,” a locality 
covered with small wooden buildings, mostly occupied 
by our ’Irish population, gathered new strength and 
increasing speed. The wind rose to a gale. In the 
vicinity of the flames it roared and howled like a 
wild beast eager for its prey. It spread from the 
foot of Center to Cotton street, from Cotton to Cross, 
from Cross to Union, from Union to Plumb, working 
up higher and higher on each street. From the 
beginning it had taken a direct diagonal course across 
the city, crossing street after street in an oblique fine, 

25 



424 


FIGHTING FIFE. 


and spreading on each side as it went. Reaching 
Plumb street it struck the rear of the brick blocks on 
the south side of Middle street. Some hoped that 
these more substantial buildings would check the 
progress of the flames. But, driven fiercely onward 
by the wind, they had now acquired a fury and a 
force which nothing could withstand. Breaking into 
the rear of these stores, they were soon enveloped in 
flames. Day’s stock of fireworks went off with a loud 
report and brilliant display. 

The fire had now reached the business center of 
the city, and the scene became fearful. The whole 
heavens were illuminated by a lurid glare of light. 
The streets were filled with hundreds of homeless 
people seeking shelter for their little ones, and pro¬ 
tection for tlieir property. Merchants were packing 
up their goods, and loaded teams were hurrying in 
every direction. Heaps of furniture filled the side¬ 
walks, and distracted women ran about seeking aid 
in the removal of their household goods. Many men 
worked like heroes without pay, but others took 
advantage of the general distress to charge exorb¬ 
itant prices for the use of their teams. 

When the lofty stores on the northerly side of 
Middle street caught fire, all hope of staying the 
progress of the flames was lost. Fox Block, an im¬ 
mense pile of brick, situated on the corner of 
Exchange and Middle streets, and in which our office, 
and most of the other newspaper offices of the city 
w~ere located, soon became involved in the general 
ruin, and sent up to the heavens an immense body 
of flames. The Custom House building, in which 
are also located the Post Office and United States’ 
Court Room, being built wholly of stone and iron, 


PORTLAND , 


425 


partly withstood the assault of the flames, although 
the exposed side, on Exchange street, was badly scaled 
by the tire, and the flames crept into the upper part 
of the building, occupied as a court room, and the 
interior was badly damaged. The Post Office was 
not so much injured, and the mails were regularly 
made up there on Thursday. The dome of the City 
Hall now caught, and soon this magnificent building 
was but a melancholy ruin. Only its walls remained. 
Being considered safe, it was filled with furniture and 
valuable articles, most of which were destroyed. 

The fire had now increased in fury, and the efforts 
of the firemen were powerless against it. It swept 
up and utterly consumed everything combustible, 
leaving no bit of burning timber or brand, and not 
even a vestige of smoke. The heat was so intense 
that the remaining brick walls, instead of being 
blackened by smoke were burned into brilliant colors. 
Marble melted into particles as fine as lime. The 
solid granite of the Post Office cracked and scaled 
off* in masses. The iron shutters on the buildings 
hitherto considered fire-proof, curled up like forest 
leaves in the heat of a furnace. The heavy iron 
rails of the horse railroad, imbedded in the pavement 
in the middle of the street, swelled and bent up 
more than a foot from the ground. In no street or 
alley was there anything left but brick and mortar, 
stone and iron. Every thing was licked up by the 
flames. 

The fire had now destroyed the business center 
of the city, consuming Middle street from the 
junction of Free to Exchange street, and running up 
Exchange to the City Hall, at the head of that 
street. The most substantial portion of the city had 


426 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


been destroyed. All obstacles to the progress of 
the flames, in the way of buildings supposed to be 
fire-proof, had been swept away. They looked down 
now upon an easy prey. All the district below 
Exchange, extending to India street and up Mount 
Joy, and reaching across from Fore to Oxford street, 
a space of perhaps half a mile square, was covered 
with wooden dwelling houses, standing on narrow 
streets and lanes — the very food for the now 
triumphant flames. Across this district the fire swept 
with incredible rapidity. Where it before assaulted 
single buildings, it now attacked entire streets, 
striking: whole rows of buildings with the force of an 
avalanche. A very tempest of cinders filled the air,, 
setting fire to every housetop. In vain men battled 
with it on their roofs. Extinguished at one point, it 
burst out at a dozen others, driving the despairing 
citizens from their housetops to look, too late, after 
the safety of their household goods. Quantities of 
these, removed to supposed places of safety, were 
again reached and destroyed by the flames. 

.The scenes amid this crowded population, thus 
hotly assaulted by fire', irresistibly marching on, were 
agonizing to look upon. The sick were carried from 
their burning homes on their beds. Distracted men, 
women, and children ran hither and thither, shouting 
and imploring help. 

The streets were filled with costly furniture. 
Teams loaded with goods, women trundling wheel¬ 
barrows filled with their little all, men carrying 
furniture on their backs, thieves hurrying away with 
their plunder, children separated from their parents, 
parents bewailing the loss of their .children; and, 
above all, the ever-advancing flames sending their 


PORTLAND. 


427 


fiery missiles overhead, made up a scene never to be 
forgotten. Fire filled the air, and ruled triumphant 
over the prostrate city. It was three o’clock in the 
morning, and still the fire swept on. A broad sheet 
of flame extended over a region nearly a mile long 
by half a mile wide. The affrighted people who 
looked down upon the scene from the elevated land 
in the neighboring town of Westbrook, saw a sea of 
fire surging over the submerged city, sending up 
tongues of flame from a thousand points, while burn¬ 
ing masses flew through the air. It was a sight such 
as few have ever looked upon, and none would desire 
to see again. With the dawn of morning, the flames 
reached the open spaces about Mount Joy, where 
they died out for want of further material to prey 
upon. One third of the city had been consumed in 
a single night. A space of over a mile in length, 
beginning with the width of a single building, and 
terminating with a sweep of half a mile, had been 
swept clear of everything combustible. Beautiful 
gardens were laid waste, and elegant homes became 
a scene of desolation. The whole area was honey¬ 
combed with cellars partially filled with fallen bricks, 
while above them rose the naked chimneys, a forest 
of brick in place of the once beautiful shade trees, 
whose blackened trunks only remained. From the 
first the fire was beyond the control of the firemen. 

The utmost endeavors of the firemen of the city, 
aided by those from other cities and towns, were of 
little avail until 'the plan of blowing up had been 
carried out, and then only to prevent the fire from 
spreading, and cause it for want of fuel to bum out. 

As the flames approached the thickly settled por¬ 
tions of the city, between Exchange and India streets, 


428 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the house tops were covered with men endeavoring to 
extinguish the cinders, while women worked nobly in 
removing goods. Many could not believe that their 
houses must go, and delayed the removal of their 
goods until too late. 

Then came the blowing up of buildings, the falling 
of church steeples, the roar of the great body of 
flames sent up by such immense buildings as Wood’s 
Hotel and the City Hall. The march of the fire was 
now accelerated. Widening its track, it swept onward 
with redoubled speed. Gathering new energy with 
its progress, it now swooped down upon whole streets 
where it had before attacked only single houses. It 
leaped from avenue to avenue. It made haste to 
accomplish its work. The whole lower part of the 
city, composed chiefly of wooden buildings, was swept 
away in an incredibly short space of time, leaving 
only a waste of chimneys and scorched and blackened 
shade trees behind. 

One of the citizens saved his shop from the flames 
by the use of beef pickle. Having used up all the 
water at hand in extinguishing the cinders he be¬ 
thought him of the barrels of brine on his premises, 
and dashing it on by the pailsfull, kept the flames 
under. He had got reduced, however, to two buckets 
of vinegar before the building was safe, and the brick 
wall on which the salt became encrusted was in a 
pretty yuc&Ze. 

In view of the appalling march of the flames, it 
was difficult for the coolest to possess entire presence 
of mind. Many persons can now think of numerous 
small but valuable articles which they might easily 
have saved. A person left his office for the last time 
with a handful of envelopes when an article worth 


PORTLAND. 


429 


thirty dollars lay at hand which he might have taken 
instead. One lady went about the streets with a new 
tin pail in her hand, leaving her silver ware in her 
burning home. 

As the night wore away, and the fire died out for 
want of further materials, the exhausted people lay 
down in the streets to sleep, some beneath tottering 
walls, some in coffins saved from the fire, and others 
on the remains of their household furniture. The sun 
rose on a scene of desolation seldom paralleled even 
in the annals of war. A city, which but twelve hours 
before was one of the most beautiful and prosperous 
in the land, had in great part been reduced to a heap 
of ashes, and its houseless population were lying worn 
out and exhausted amid the ruins. 

Says the Portland Press: 

“ If a sermon upon the instability of human affairs 
were the one thing desirable now, it would be easy to 
dwell in pathetic periods upon the sudden dissolution 
of the solid piles of brick and stone which two days 
ago were homes, shops, and haunts of men, but have 
now vanished like a dream. The Post Office is soli¬ 
tary in the midst of a forest of unhoused chimneys, 
and a labyrinth of heated and crumbling walls; its 
granite is blistered and shivered by the intense flame 
which swept over it night before last. The dome of 
the City Hall and the spires of our churches have 
passed away like evening clouds. Where was once 
Exchange street is now only a heap of ruins. A third 
of the territorial surface of the city lies desolate. A 
large part of the accumulated wealth, the savings of 
this and former industrious generations, has been 
destroyed. Half of our population has been turned 
into the street without warning—there is the fact, 


430 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


black and terrible, without palliation or disguise; but 
if brick and stone are perishable, and may blow away 
as lightly as a gossamer, there is yet something solid 
and enduring in the world—the patience and enter¬ 
prise which built up our beautiful city. In this 
disaster, never have the sterling qualities of our 
people shown forth more nobly than now. 

“ It is hard to see the fruits of so many years of 
patient endeavor wasted in a few hours, but the 
indomitable courage which faces the fact admits the 
misfortune in all its magnitude and sets promptly to 
work to repair. It is admirable beyond praise.” 

u The calamity,” writes Hon. P. W. Chandler, “ was 
really appalling. Going to the point where the fire 
commenced, I walked over its whole course from the 
great sugar house, near the Boston railroad station, 
to Montjoy’s Hill. It is a wide scene of desolation, 
dreary, sickening, awful. I have not seen or im¬ 
agined anything like it since I traversed the streets 
of Pompeii a dozen years ago. At the first glance 
the whole city seemed to be- destroyed. There is- 
literally a forest of chimneys, and over the whole 
region almost the silence of the grave. There are 
still many splendid residences left, especially in the 
vicinity of High street, and there are some large 
stores on the water side of the town. But in fact, 
substantially the whole of the business part of the 
place is destroyed. Foot, Congress, Exchange, Middle 
streets—recently so full of business life and animation 
—are all gone. The banks and insurance offices, the 
dry goods stores, the offices of the newspapers, law¬ 
yers, and express companies, telegraph and brokers, 
are swept away. As you pass north of Exchange, 
and up India street, all the fine old houses, with beau- 


PORTLAND. 


431 


tiful gardens, are in ruins; and it is enough to give 
on*e the heartache to see those row's of noble elms 
dried, charred, and utterly destroyed, although still 
standing and stretching their branches in mute testi¬ 
mony of this appalling disaster.” 

One half of the city, and the one which included 
its business portion, was destroyed ; every bank and 
all the newspaper and lawyers’ offices had been 
swept away; the splendid city and county buildings 
on Congress Street, considered fire-proof, and filled 
with furniture from.the neighboring houses, were laid 
in ruins. 

The flames swept over more than 200 acres, and 
destroyed nearly 1,500 buildings, including, besides 
those already enumerated, all the jewelry establish¬ 
ments, the wholesale dry goods houses, several 
churches, the telegraph offices, and a majority of the 
other business places. Nearly ten thousand people 
were rendered houseless. 

The entire loss w r as estimated at $10,000,000, only 
partially covered by insurance. 





CHAPTER XXV. 


THE PLAGUE IN LONDON. 

What is the Plague?—Its First Symptoms.—Its Malignity, &c—How 
and When it Broke Out in London.—It Spreads Amid the Filth of St. 
Giles’.—Terror of the Inhabitants.— A General Stampede.—'Two Hun¬ 
dred Thousand People Flying from the City.—Closing of Infected 
Houses.—Cessation of Business, and Grass Growing in the Streets.— 
Imprisoned with the Plague-stricken.—A Terrible Situation.—A Pest- 
house and a Prison.—Breaking from Confinement.—Heartrending 
Scenes. 



'ROM Fire and Pestilence good Lord 
deliver us.” So runs the Litany. These 
twin sisters, whose dread mission seems 
to be that of teaching man his own frailty, 
__ and the instability of earthly possessions; 
walk over the fairest regions inhabited by 
man, often hand in hand, but not seldom the one 
treads on the heels of the other, as if to see that 
nothing is spared in their course. "Sorrows,” says 
the poet, "come not as single spies, but in battalions.” 
Thus it happened that the goodly city of London 
was doomed in the successive years 16G5 and 1666 



THE LONDON PLAGUE. 


433 


to be swept first by pestilence and second by fire as 
though it had been selected by the Deity to furnish a 
signal evidence of his power to destroy. 

It seems fitting to give a short sketch of both of 
these calamities linked together as they always are in 
the history of that famous city. 

The Plague! Terrible word! What was it? It 
took its name from its being one of the most formid¬ 
able diseases that has ever afflicted mankind. Though 
at present generally confined to Eastern countries and 
mitigated by scientific treatment and the sanitary reg¬ 
ulations of modern civilization, it is still an object of 
painful interest, particularly to seafaring and commer¬ 
cial nations. 

A contagious disease, very severe generally, and 
rapid in its progress, it is, or was, fatal to about two- 
thirds of those who are attacked by it. The first 
symptom is a headache in the forehead or in the hinder 
part of the head. The patient is thrown into violent 
tremors and feels within his body a furious heat. The 
eyes become red and ferocious ; the pain, accompanied 
with a sensation of numbness, spreads along the spine 
to the joints and limbs. The tongue is dry and yel¬ 
lowish, there is a frightful nausea and the wretched 
victim tries to vomit, but in vain. Dizziness and 
delirium follow. The patient raves wildly, and the 
laboring breath comes heavily from the congested 
lungs. 

Meanwhile, a dreadful feature of the foul disease 
makes itself seen. Great carbuncles and ulcers appear 
in the groin and arm-pits, which break and discharge 
a yellow or black fluid of fetid odor. This fluid seems 
to eat away the neighboring skin and even the muscle 
itself. At the expiration of from three to seven days 


434 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


death comes to relieve the sufferer or the disease 
reaches its climax and he slowly recovers. 

Such is a brief description of the plague which for 
many hundred years has prevailed in Turkey and 
Egypt and which was brought to Holland from the 
south of Europe in 1663, and made its appearance in the 
upper part of Drury Lane, London, in December, 
1664. Slowly, and almost unperceptibly, at first, like 
some stealthy beast of prey prowling in the night, it 
spread through St. Giles, St. Andrews, St. Bride’s, and 
St. James parishes. Sometimes it seemed to hide 
itself for a few days, only to reappear with new force. 

The attention of the authorities having been called 

/ 

to some of the early cases, it Was publicly announced 
that the plague had appeared in certain parishes. The 
alarm spread here instantly and an exodus took place 
from all parts of the city, but principally at the west 
end of the town among the nobility and gentry, who, 
with their families and servants, thronged out of town. 
The streets were jammed with wagons and carts, with 
goods, women, servants, and children, coaches filled 
with members of the aristocracy, and horsemen attend¬ 
ing them, all hurrying away; then empty wagons and 
carts were seen returning, and spare horses with 
servants, who came back from the country to fetch 
more people, besides troops of men on horseback, 
loaded with baggage and riding as those who ride for 
their lives. 

The Lord Mayor’s door was beset from morning till 
night with an importunate crowd seeking for passes 
and certificates of health, for without these there was 
no traveling or securing of lodgings at the inns in the 
country. 

This press continued all the months of May and 


TxiE LONDON PLAGUE. 


435 


June and was increased by rumors that the govern¬ 
ment intended to interdict any persons from leaving 
the infected city. 

Early in the summer the weather set in hot, and the 
infection commenced to spread with frightful rapidity- 
All that could conceal their distempers did it to pre. 
vent their neighbors from shunning and refusing to 
converse with them, and also to prevent the authorities 
from shutting up their houses. This fact doubled the 
terrors of the plague, for no one could know with 
whom to converse or even to meet with safety. 

The infection at first kept chiefly in the out parishes, 
which were not only more populous but less cleanly. 
Here thousands upon thousands of poorer people 
crowded together in close and filthy tenements. Upon 
such food the destroyer rioted for weeks. By the 
middle of July the plague had spread in the better 
portions of the city, and in the second week of August 
850 died of it in Cripplegate alone. 

A fresh panic now seized the inhabitants, and in 
August it seemed as if the city would be abandoned 
by all but magistrates and servants. The face of 
London was now strangely altered. Sorrow seemed 
to brood over all. The city seemed to be all in tears. 
One thousand houses had by the first of August been 
computed to have been abandoned, and two hundred 
thousand people to have left the city. 

Many merchants, owners of ships, etc., shut them¬ 
selves up on board their vessels, being supplied with 
provisions from Greenwich, Woolwich, and single 
farm houses on the Kentish side. Here, however, 
they were safe ; for the infection never reached below 
Deptford, though the people went frequently on shore 
to the country towns, villages, and farm houses to buy 


436 


FIGHTING FIRE. • 


fresh provisions. As the violence of the plague in¬ 
creased, the ships which had families on board 
removed farther off; some went quite out to sea, and 
then put into such harbors and roads as they could 
best reach. 

The streets usually so thronged were now almost 
deserted, and grass, which stray cattle devoured, grew 
in the thoroughfares. One could walk from one end 
to the other of the by-streets and see neither man, 
woman, nor child, except the watchman who had been 
set at the door of such houses as had been shut up. 
Whole blocks of houses had been abandoned by their 
tenants or closed by order of the magistrates. 

“ It was really a wonder,” says Defoe, u that the 
whole body of the people did not rise as one man and 
abandon their dwellings, leaving the place as a space 
of ground designed by heaven for an Akeldama, 
doomed to be destroyed from the face of the earth, 
and that all that would be found in it would perish 
with it.” * 

Notwithstanding so many people had fled from the 
city a vast number still remained, either from necessity 
or from choice, especially as they had grown wonted 
to the plague from the length of time it took to 
become general. 

It must not be forgotten that the city and suburbs 
were prodigiously filled with people at the time when 
the visitation of the plague began. The wars of the 
period being over, the armies disbanded, and the royal 
family and the monarchy being restored, thousands 
had flocked to London to settle in business or to 
depend upon and attend the . court for rewards of 
services and preferments; the town was computed to 
have a hundred thousand more inhabitants than it had 
ever had before. 


THE LONDON PLAGUE. 


437 


Superstition also came in to heighten the fears of the 
people. Just before the pestilence a comet was said 
to have appeared, of a faint, dull, languid color, and 
ct its motion very heavy, solemn and slow, which, 
according to some, foretold a heavy judgment, slow 
but severe and terrible, as was the plague.” The 
apprehensions of the people were likewise strongly 
increased by the errors of the times, when men, for 
some reason, were more addicted to “ prophecies and 
astrological conjurations, dreams and old wives tales, 
than ever they were before or since.” The town was 
crowded with astrologers and wizards, who pandered 
to the prevailing apprehensions, and made money out 
of the fears of the people. 

The households in which the plague appeared were 
of course immediately avoided by every one ; and the 
families which were infected, on the other hand, 
endeavored by every means to conceal the fact. 

The burials in St. Giles in one week in the month 
of May were fifty-three, of which only nine were set 
down to the plague. It was found on examination 
that twenty more had really died of the plague. 

In the height of the pestilence quacks and charla¬ 
tans dared still to ply their trade. “The posts of 
houses,” says a contemporary writer, “were plastered 
over with doctors bills and papers of ignorant fellows, 
quacking and pampering in physic, and inviting 
people to come to them for remedies, which was 
generally set off with such flourishes as these, viz : 

‘ Infallible preventive pills against the plague. 
Never Failing preservatives against the infection. 
Anti-Pestilential pills. Incomparable Drink against 
the plague, never found out before. An Universal 
remedy for the plague. The Only True plague water, 


438 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


etc.’ ” The doors of these quacks were daily thronged 
with the deluded crowd who sought relief or preven¬ 
tion from the disease. But these wretched mounte¬ 
banks were soon involved in the common calamity 
and swept into the same grave with their patients. 

The authorities commenced as early as June to take 
stringent measures to check the spread of the infection. 
Examiners, searchers, watchmen, keepers, and buriers. 
were appointed for places and persons infected. Sur¬ 
geons were directed to search everybody and to keep 
themselves sequestered from all other patients; cor¬ 
dons were drawn around infected houses, and all 
householders required to give notice within two hours 
after the first sign of the plague appeared in their fami¬ 
lies ; burials were ordered to take place between sunset 
and sunrise; every house infected was marked in the 
middle of the door with a red cross a foot long, and 
over it the words “Lord have mercy upon us.” The 
most stringent precautions were also enforced against 
the removal of infected clothing, and against the 
accumulation of filth in houses or streets. 

Necessary as it was that houses should be closed, this 
measure greatly increased the sufferings of the people. 
A day watchman and a night watchman alternately stood 
at every door which was padlocked and marked with 
the blood-red cross, and prevented all ingress or egress. 
Each of these houses became at once a prison and a 
pest house, the plague-stricken, and they who were 
still untouched by the pestilence, being side by side in 
a dreadful companionship of pain and terror. It is 
not wonderful that many should elude the watchmen 
and fly from their plague-dungeons, leaving the sick 
to die alone. Instances were known where the 
dead cart, making its nightly rounds, was sum. 


THE LONDON PLAGUE. 


439 


moned by tlie watchman to take corpses from 
such houses 1 as had been abandoned. From one 
house in Houndsditch wild and terrible scream¬ 
ing was heard in the night, which suddenly ceased, 
and was succeeded by an awful stillness. The 
bell man, who went with the dead cart, knocked 
loudly at the door, and shouted, “ Bring out your 
dead,” but nobody answered. Soon after, the night 
watchman and the day watchman, for they were both 
on the spot, it being in the morning at the change of 
watches, procured a long ladder, and climbing to the 
chamber window saw the floor inside strewed with 
corpses just dead. The passionate cries heard were 
those of the survivors of the family, who were taking 
leave of their dying friends and preparing to fly from 
the house. 

Sometimes desperate measures were resorted to in 
order to break from this horrible confinement. One 
of the watchmen was blown up with gunpowder by 
the inmates of the house he guarded, and while he 
was screaming in pain, for he was dreadfully burned, 
the family escaped from the second-story windows, for 
no one dared to come near, either to help the watch¬ 
man or prevent them from escaping. 

u In other cases,” says Defoe, “ some had gardens 
and walls, or pales, between them and their neighbors, 
or yards and back-houses, and these, by friendship and 
entreaties, would get leave to get over those walls or 
pales, and so go out at their neighbors doors, or, by 
giving money to their servants, get them to let them 
through in the night; so that, in short, the shutting 
up of houses were in nowise to be depended upon; 
neither did it answer the end at all; serving more to 

26 


440 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


make the people desperate, and drive them to such 
extremities as that they would break out at all adven¬ 
tures. 

And what was still worse, those that did thus 
break out spread the infection farther by their 
wandering about with the distemper upon them, in 
their desperate circumstances, than they would other¬ 
wise have done; “for, whoever considers all the 
particulars in such cases, must acknowledge, and 
cannot doubt, but the severity of those confinements 
made many people desperate, and made them run out 
of their houses at all hazards, and with the plague 
visibly upon them, not knowing either whither to go, 
or what to do, or, indeed what they did; and many 
that did so were driven to dreadful exigencies and 
extremities and perished in the streets or fields for 
mere want, or dropped down, by the raging violence 
of the fever upon them.” Others wandered into the 
country and went forward any way, as their despera¬ 
tion guided them, not knowing whither they went or 
would go, till, faint and tired, and not getting any 
relief, the houses and villages on the road refusing to 
admit them to lodge, u whether infected or no, 
they perished by the roadside, or gotten into barns, 
and died there, none daring to come to them or 
relieve them, though perhaps, not infected, for nobody 
would believe them.” 

On the other hand, when the plague at first seized a 
family, that is to say, when any one body of the family 
had gone out, and unwarily or otherwise caught the 
distemper and brought it home, it was certainly 
known to the family before it was known to the 
officers, who, “ as you will see by the order, were 
appointed to examine into the circumstances of all 


THE LONDON PLAGUE. 


441 

sick persons, when they heard of their being sick.” 

In this interval, between their being taken sick and 
the examiners’ coming, the master of the house had 
leisure and liberty to remove himself, or all his family, 
if he knew whither to go, and many did so. But the 
great disaster was, that many did thus after they were 
really infected themselves, and so carried the disease 
into the houses of those who were so hospitable as to 
receive them, which, it must be confessed, was very 
cruel and ungrateful. 

“I am speaking now of people made desperate by 
the apprehensions of their being shut up, and their 
breaking out by stratagem or force, either before or 
after they were shut up, whose misery was not 
lessened when they were out, but sadly increased. 
On the other hand, many who thus got away had 
retreat to go to, and other houses, where they locked 
themselves up, and kept hid till the plague was over; 
and many families foreseeing the approach of the dis¬ 
temper, laid up stores of provisions sufficient for their 
whole families, and shut themselves up, and that so 
entirely that they were neither seen nor heard of, till 
the infection wms quite ceased, and then came abroad 
sound and well.” 

“ The swellings,” says Defoe, “which were generally 
in the neck or groin, when they grew hard, and would 
not break, grew so painful that it was equal to the 
most exquisite torture ; and some not able to bear the 
torment threw themselves out at windows, or shot 
themselves, or otherwise made themselves away, and I 
saw several dismal objects of that kind; others, unable 
to contain themselves, vented their pain by incessant 
roarings, and such loud and lamentable cries were to 


442 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


be heard as we walked along the streets, that would 
pierce the very heart to think of, especially when it 
was to be considered that the same dreadful scourge 
might be expected every moment to seize upon 
ourselves.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

BURYING THE DEAD—MOURNING IN DAYLIGHT 

AND DARKNESS. 

Burials by the Wholesale.—The Great Pit in Aldgate Churchyard.— 
The Dead Cart on its Rounds.—Thrilling Scenes by the Grave.— 
Robbing the Corpses.—Hard-hearted Nurses.—A Female Ghoul.—A 
Picture of the City Festering Under the July Sun—The Plague- 
Smitten Dropping Dead in the Street.—Night Scenes.—The Cross- 
marked Door, and the Drowsy Watchman.—Thieves Loaded with 
Infected Clothing.—An Awful Cry, “ Lord have mercy upon us! ”— 
The Dead Carts Abandoned by their Drivers, and Corpses Tumbled 
into the Street. 



J FTER the funerals/’ says the historian, 
b “ became so many, that people could 
1 not toll the bell, mourn or weep, or 
wear black for one another, as they did 
^ before ; no, nor so much as make coffins 
for those that died; the fury of the 
infection appeared to be so increased, that in short 
they shut up no houses at all; it seemed enough 
that all the remedies of that kind had been used 
till they were found fruitless, and that the plague 
spread itself with an irresistible fury, so that, as the 
fire the succeeding year spread itself, and burned 

( 443 ) 


444 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


with such violence; that the citizens in despair gave 
over their endeavors to extinguish it, so in the plague, 
it came at last to such violence, that the people sat 
still looking at one another, and seemed quite aban¬ 
doned to despair; whole streets seemed to be desolated, 
and not to be shut up only, but to be emptied of their 
inhabitants; doors were left open, windows stood shat¬ 
tering with the wind in empty houses, for want of jieo- 
ple to shut them. In a word, people began to give up 
themselves to their fears, and to think that all regula¬ 
tions and methods were in vain, and that there was 
nothing to be hoped for, but an universal desolation.’ , 

In such calamities death seems to forbid the ordinary 
funeral rites which love and respect pay to the de¬ 
parted. There is a dreadful necessity for haste, and 
the remains of thousands are wdielmed in one common 
grave. The heat of the summer and the terrible na¬ 
ture of the pestilence compelled the authorities to 
these wholesale burials. 

u They dug a great pit in the churchyard of the 
parish of Aldgate.” We quote another extract from 
the graphic narrative of Defoe: 

'“A terrible pit it was, and I could not resist my 
curiosity to go and see it; as near as I may judge, it 
was about forty feet in length, and about fifteen or 
sixteen feet broad ; and, at the time I first looked at it, 
about nine feet deep; but it was said, they dug it 
near twenty feet afterwards, in one part of it, till they 
could go no deeper for the water; for they had, it 
seems, dug several large pits before this; for, though 
the plague was long in coming to our parish, yet, when 
it did come, there w r as no parish in or about London 
where it raged w T ith such violence as in the two par¬ 
ishes of Aldgate and Whitechapel. In other church- 


LONDON. 


445 

yards they had also dug pits as the distemper spread, 
and especially in August when the dead carts began 
to go round. Into these pits they had put perhaps 
fifty or sixty bodies each, then they made larger holes, 
wherein they buried all that the cart brought in a 
week, which, by the middle to the end of August, 
came to from two hundred to four hundred a week; 
and they could not well dig them larger, because of 
llie order of the magistrates, confining them to leave 
no bodies within six feet of the surface; and the water 
coming on at about seventeen or eighteen feet, they 
could not well put more in one pit ; but now, at the 
beginning of September, the plague raging in a dread¬ 
ful manner, and the number of burials in our parish 
increasing to more than was ever buried in any parish 
about London, of no larger extent, the}^ ordered this 
dreadful gulf to be dug, for such it was rather than a 
pit. 

I got admittance into the churchyard by being ac¬ 
quainted with the sexton who attended, who, though 
he did not refuse me at all, yet earnestly persuaded 
me not to go; telling me very seriously, for he was a 
good, religious and sensible man, that it was, indeed, 
their business and duty to venture, and to run all haz¬ 
ards, and that in it they might hope to be preserved; 
but that I had no apparent call to it but my own cu¬ 
riosity, which, he said, he believed I would not pre¬ 
tend was sufficient to justify my running that hazard. 
I told him I had been pressed in my mind to go, and 
that, perhaps it might be an instructing sight, that 
might not be without its uses. ‘ Nay,’ says the good 
man, i if you will venture upon that score, ’name of 
God, go in; for, depend upon it, it will be a sermon to 
you, it may be, the best that ever you heard in your 


446 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


life. It is a speaking sight/ says lie, ‘and has a voice 
with it, and a loud one, to call us all to repentance; ’ 
and with that he opened the door, and said, ‘ Go, if 
you will/ 

“ His discourse had shocked my resolution a little, 
and I stood wavering for a good while, but, just at that 
interval, I saw two Jinks come over from the end of the 
minories, and heard the bellman, and then appeared a 
dead cart, as they called it, coming over the streets; 
so I could no longer resist my desire of seeing it, and 
went in. There was nobody as I could perceive at 
first, in the church-yard, or going into it, but the 
buriers, and the fellow that drove the cart, or rather 
led the horse and cart, but when they came up to the 
pit, they saw a man go to and again, muffled up in a 
brown cloak, and making motions with his hands, un¬ 
der his cloak, as if he was in great agony; and the 
binders immediately gathered about him, supposing he 
was one of those poor delirious, or desperate creatures 
that used to pretend, as I have said, to bury them¬ 
selves ; he said nothing as he walked about, but tivo 
or three times groaned very deeply, and loud, and 
sighed as he would break his heart. 

When the binders came up to him, they soon found 
that he was neither a person infected or desperate, as 
I have observed above, or a person distempered in 
mind, but one oppressed with a dreadful weight of 
grief indeed, having his wife and several of his chil¬ 
dren all in the cart that was just come in with him, 
and he followed in an agony and excess of sorrow. 
He mourned heartily, as it was easy to see, but with a 
kind of masculine grief that could not give itself vent 
by tears; and, calmly desiring the buriers to let him 
alone, said he would only see the bodies thrown in, 


LONDON. 


447 

and go away, so they left importuning him; but no 
sooner was the cart turned round, and the bodies shot 
into the pit, promiscuously, which was a surprise to him, 
for he at least expected they would have been decently 
laid in, though indeed, he was afterwards convinced 
that was impracticable; I say, no sooner did he see 
the sight, but he cried out aloud, unable to contain 
himself. I could not hear what he said, but he went 
backward two or three steps, and fell down in a 
swoon; the buriers ran to him and took him up, 
and in a little while he came to himself, and they led 
him away to the Pye tavern, over against the end of 
Houndsditch, where, it seems, the man was known, 
and where they took care of him. He looked into the 
pit again, as he went away, but the buriers had covered 
the bodies so immediately with throwing in earth, that, 
though there was light enough, for there were Ian- 
thorns and candles in them, placed all night round the 
sides of the pit, upon the heaps of earth, seven or 
eight, or perhaps more, yet nothing could be seen. 

“ This was a mournful scene indeed, and affected me 
almost as much as the rest; but the other was awful 
and full of terror; the cart had in it sixteen or seven¬ 
teen bodies; some were wrapt up in linen sheets, some 
in rugs, some little other than naked, or so loose, that 
what covering they had fell from them in the shooting 
out of the cart, and they fell quite naked among the 
rest; but the matter was not much to them, or the 
indecency much to any one else, seeing they were all 
dead, and were to be huddled together into the com¬ 
mon grave of mankind, as we may call it, for here w T as 
no difference made, but poor and rich went together; 
there was no other way of burials, neither was it pos¬ 
sible there should, for coffins were not to be had for 


448 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the prodigious numbers that fell in such a calamity as 
this. 

"It was reported, by way of scandal upon the 
buriers, that if any corpse was delivered to them, 
decently wound up, as we called it then, in a winding 
sheet, tied over the head and feet, which some did, 
and which was generally of good linen: I say it was 
reported, that the buriers were so wicked as to strip 
them in the cart, and carry them quite naked to the 
ground; but, as I cannot credit anything so vile 
among- Christians, and at a time so filled with terrors 
as that was, I can only relate it, and leave it 
undetermined” 

The hard-hearted selfishness of the professional 
London nurse, such as Dickens has depicted in his 
celebrated character of Mrs. Gamp, was profusely 
illustrated. In many cases the unfortunate victims 
of the distemper were abandoned by their nurses, and 
left to die in solitude. In most others there was 
shameful neglect. One of these nurses, an old hag, 
was detected in the act of leaving a house loaded 
with infected clothing, which she had stripped from 
one of the victims in his last agonies. Reeking with 
the terrible odor of the pestilence, and looking more 
like a hobgoblin than a human being, the wretch 
was brought before a magistrate and sentenced to a 
long imprisonment in punishment for her villainy. 

By the latter part of August the pestilence had 
increased to a frightful extent, and was aggravated 
by the unusually hot, close season. 

Through the long summer days the sun shone 
fiercely down upon the festering city, and men, with 
bated breath and scanning every one who approached, 
paced stealthily through the noisome streets and 


BURYING THE DEAD. 


449 


alleys, and listened at a distance to some new tale 
of terror. Each one when he would make a purchase 
of provisions, or of some of the other necessaries of 
life, laid down the exact sum for the purchase, fearing 
to receive any money in exchange. The churches 
which echoed with dolorous psalms and prayers, 
were redolent with odor of musk and essences, which 
those who could afford such luxuries carried in vials 
constantly with them. The smell of burning pitch 
and rosin, and the smoke of gunpowder used in 
fumigating houses, loaded the air mixed with strange 
and unearthly whiffs of pestilential vapor. 

“ Once,” says a contemporary writer, u on a public 
day, whether a Sabbath day or Hot, I do not 
remember, in Aldgate Church, in a pew full of people, 
on a sudden one fancied she smelt an ill smell; 
immediately she fancied the plague wvas in the pew, 
whispers her notion or suspicion to the next, then 
rises and goes out of the pew; it immediately took 
with the next, and so with them all, and everyone 
of them, and of two or three adjoining pews, got up 
and went out of the church, nobody knowing what 
it was offended them, or from whom. 

The fear of contracting the plague from the provi¬ 
sions it was daily necessary to purchase, was an ever- 
pressing one, especially as the butchers had suffered 
terribly with the distemper. The rich had, in many 
cases, early in the summer, laid in a stock of provi¬ 
sions sufficient to last them for several months, but 
the poorer classes, who were forced to supply their 
daily wants by resorting to the markets, were haunted 
by this ever-present terror. 

The money which the butchers and market men 
received for their goods was immediately plunged in 


450 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


a pot of vinegar to remove the infection. Sometimes 
while a man or woman was standing at a butcher 
stall, he or she would drop down dead in a moment 
without any outward mark of disease, the gangrene 
having worked inwardly, and almost without the 
victim’s knowing that he had been marked for 
destruction. 

Sometimes a wretcned being, with his neck swathed 
in linen, could have been seen crawling along the 
street, his eyes glaring with the ferocious look char¬ 
acteristic of the disease. When the passers-by saw 
this, they would turn short about and run half dis¬ 
tracted in the other direction only to meet face to 
face a similar object of terror. 

Sometimes persons would fall dead in the streets, 
and terrible shrieks could be heard, and screechings 
of women, who, in their agony, would throw open 
their chamber windows, and thrusting out their 
distorted faces, give vent to their dismal cries. 

“ Passing through Token House Yard, in Lothbury,” 
says Defoe, “ of a sudden a casement violently opened 
just over my head, and a woman gave three frightful 
screeches, and then cried, ‘ Oh! death, death, death ! 9 
in a most inimitable tone, and which struck me with 
horror, and a chilness. in my very blood. There was 
nobody to be seen in the whole street, neither did 
any other window open, for people had no curiosity 
now in any case, nor could anybody help one another, 
so I went on to pass into Bell Alley.” 

As we have before stated, the most of the rich 
people and nobles had left the city; the poor people 
seemed at last to become callous at the horrors of 
the pestilence, and quite venturesome and fearless 
went about their employments with a sort of 


BURYING THE DEAD. 


451 


desperate and brutal courage. There seemed at last 
to be no difficulty in* securing persons to attend to 
any business, no matter liow hazardous: such as that 
of tending the sick, watching houses shut up, carrying 
infected persons to the pest-house, and what was still 
worse, carrying the dead away to their graves. 

If the scene by daylight was full of terror and pain, 
what must it have been when the sun had sunk, and 
night fell upon the darkened and desolate city. 

Here and there through the lonely streets, solitary 
wayfarers, muffled up, hurried along, ever and anon 
casting terrified glances askance at the red cross- 
marked doors. Through the silent watches of the 
night, the dead-cart could have been heard rumbling 
along on its dread errand, and the deep, ofhrepeated 
cry of the hoarse bellman, “ Bring out your dead! 
Bring out your dead! ” 

Looking down through the narrow and filthy 
streets, the watchmen’s lanterns could have been seen 
twinkling dimly; dark figures flitted to and fro as 
the nurses, examiners, and surgeons went by each 
upon their mission. From gloomy portals of houses, 
and from the red-crossed doors of hovels, ghastly 
burdens were hurried and pitched into the dead-cart 
amid oaths and wailings. At the steaming church¬ 
yards ill-favored men plied the shovel and mattock 
by the light of blazing links, which threw a weird 
and flickering light upon the swollen corpses they 
tossed into the reeking pits. 

The clergymen and priests were few in number, 
but such as there were still remaining moved about 
and ministered to the sick, but the formal rites of 
religion seemed to be for the time suspended. 

Some, either to smother their apprehensions or 


N 




452 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


rendered desperate by their situation, took to deep 
drinking and carousing. The taverns and places of 
low resort rang with bacchanalian songs and noisy 
orgies, which mingled with the hoarse cries of the 
dead-cart drivers and bellmen. Some of these roist¬ 
erers would look up pale and ghastly from their 
cups, and suddenly gangrened by the pestilence, 
dropped corpses upon the floor. 

Thieves, who plied their trade even in broad day 
light among the deserted houses, in the night broke 
into those still tenanted, and stripped the bed clothes 
oil the sick, and the sheets in which corpses had been 
wrapped. This helped to spread the infection ; and 
these desperate men, loaded down with their horrible 
plunder, were often seen to drop dead in the streets 
and alleys. 

One of the most terrible features of those nights 
was the dismal and unearthly cries which could have 
been heard on every side. Some issued from the 
infected houses, where the plague-stricken fought 
madly with their attendants, who sought to detain 
them in their beds. Others were uttered by wretched 
creatures who, in their delirium, had escaped in their 
night clothes from the houses where they were con¬ 
fined, and now wandered through the street looking 
like ulcerous walking corpses, with glaring eyeballs, 
and gave vent to these distressing cries, mingled with 
prayers and curses. 

One of these foul spectres of disease and death 
attempted to kiss a lady, who fled from him, but was 
speedily overtaken by her pursuer, who seemed 
endowed with the strength of a madman, and obliged 
to submit to his loathsome caresses. Within an hour 
she died, either of fright or of the plague, it is 
uncertain which. 


( 


BURYING THE DEAD. 


453 

For the purpose of disinfecting the air, great fires 
were built at the expense of the city, and kept 
burning night and day. These fires were fifteen in 
number: one at the Custom House, one at Billings¬ 
gate, one at Queenhithe, one at the Three Cranes, 
one in Blackfriars, one at the gate of Bridewell, one 
at the corner of Leadenhall street and Grace church, 
one at the north and one at the south end of the 
Boyal Exchange, one at Guildhall, one at Blackwell 
Hall gate, one at the Lord Mayor’s door in St. Helen’s, 
one at the west entrance into St. Paul’s, one at the 
entrance into Bow Church, and one at the foot of 
the Bridge. 

Two hundred chaldrons of coal a week were con¬ 
sumed to keep these fires alight, and desperate men 
of the lowest class were hired to tend them. The 
midnight sky was reddened by the glow, and the 
watchers who hovered about them looked like demons 
from the infernal pit. 

Beligious enthusiasts ran about, sometimes naked, 
and with a pan of burning charcoal upon their heads, 
and denounced the city. We will not dwell upon 
the horrors which attended the dead-cart in its nightly 
rounds. 

“ One cart,” says Defoe, “going up Shoreditch 
was forsaken by the drivers, or being left to one man 
to drive, he died in the street, and the horses going 
on overthrew the cart, and left the bodies, some 
thrown here, some there, in a dismal manner. 
Another cart was, it seems, found in the great pit in 
Finsbury Fields, the driver being dead, or having 
been gone and abandoned it, and the horses running 
too near it, the cart fell in, and drew the horses in 
also. It was suggested that the driver was thrown 


454 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


in with it, and that the cart fell upon him, by reason 
his whip was seen to be in the pit among the bodies; 
but that, I suppose, could not be certain. 

“ In our parish of Aldgate, the dead carts were 
several times, as I have heard, found standing at the 
churchyard gate, full of dead bodies; but neither 
bellman, or driver, or any one else with it. Neither 
in this or many other cases did they know what 
bodies they had in. their cart, for sometimes they 
were let down with ropes out of balconies and out of 
windows, and sometimes the bearers brought them 
to the cart, sometimes other people; nor, as the men 
themselves said, did they trouble themselves to keep 
any account of the numbers. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 
THE CITY OF DESOLATION. 


Under Ban.—Plague Patients Wandering into the Country.—Dead in 
Highways and Ditches.—Outrages by the Hired Nurses.—Smothering 
a Patient and Stealing his Clothes.—Walking about with Death written 
upon the Face.—Incidents of the Plague.—The Blind Piper in the 
Church Yard.—Hydropathy; a Rough Remedy and a Speedy Cure.— 
A Tradition of the Plague.—John Colby’s Adventure.— Chased by one 
of the Plague-stricken.—Diminution of the Distemper.—Extent of its 
Ravages. 


0 N D 0 N became at last a place to be 
shunned and abhorred by the world. The 
trading nations of Europe refused to cor¬ 
respond with it, or to admit its ships to 
their ports. Foreign trade came to an end, 
and domestic trade was confined to the 
goods which are the necessities of life. Manufactures 
of all kinds were discontinued. A cordon was drawn 
about the city which was as effectual as a besieging 
army—this was a cordon of fear. The intercourse 
between the city and country became rare. The 
people of the rural districts pitied the Londoners, and 
avoided them as far as was possible. Communion 
with the infected, however, was sometimes forced 
upon them. 



27 


( 455 ) 



456 


FIGHTING FIRE 


Numbers of poor despairing creatures who had the 
distemper upon them and were grown stupid or mel¬ 
ancholy by their misery, as many were, wandered 
away into the fields and woods, and into secret, 
uncouth places, almost anywhere, to creep into a bush 
or hedge and die. 

The inhabitants of the villages adjacent would, in 
pity, carry them food, and set it at a distance, that 
they might fetch it if they were able, and sometimes 
they were not able ; and the next time they went they 
would find the poor wretches lying dead, and the food 
untouched. The country people would go and dig a 
hole at a distance from them, and then, with long poles 
and hooks at the end of them, drag the bodies into 
these pits, and then throw the earth in form, as far as 
they could casHt, to cover them; taking notice how 
the wind blew, and so come on that side which the 
seamen call to windward, that the scent of the bodies 
might blow from them. 

And thus great numbers went out of the world who 
were never known, or any account of them taken, as 
well within the bills of mortality as without. Many 
persons never perceived that they were infected till 
they found to their unspeakable surprise the tokens 
come out upon them, after which they seldom lived 
six hours; for those spots they called the tokers were 
really gangrene spots, or mortified flesh, in small knobs 
as broad as a little silver penny, and hard as a piece 
of callus or horn; so that when the disease was come 
up to that length there was nothing could follow but 
certain death. 

It should be noticed that the most rash, fearless and 
desperate in this calamity were the women ; and, as 
there were vast numbers that went about as nurses, to 


-CIIE CITY OF DESOLATION. 


457 


tend those that were sick, they committed a great 
many petty thieveries in the houses where they were 
employed, till, at length, the parish officers were sent 
to recommend nurses to the sick, and always took an 
account who it was they sent, so as that they might 
call' them to account if the house had been abused 
where they were placed. 

But these robberies extended chiefly to wearing 
clothes, linen, and what rings or money they 
could come at when the person died who was under 
their care, but not to a general plunder of the houses. 
One of these nurses, several years after, being on her 
death bed, confessed, with the utmost horror, the rob¬ 
beries she had committed at the time of her being a 
nurse, and by which she had enriched herself to a 
great degree. 

A nurse in one place, laid a wet cloth upon the 
face of a dying patient whom she tended, and so put 
an end to his life ; another smothered a young woman 
she was looking to when she was in a fainting fit; 
some killed them by giving them one thing, some 
another, and some starved them by giving them 
nothing at all. 

A man coming to a house in White Cross street and 
finding the door shut, knocked loudly, and, as he 
thought, heard somebody answer within, but was not 
sure, so he waited, and after some stay knocked 
again, and then a third time, when he heard somebody 
coming down stairs. 

At length the man of the house came to the door; 
he had on his breeches or drawers, and a yellow 
flannel waistcoast, no stockings, a pair of slip shoes, a 
white cap on his head, and, as the young man said, 
death in his face. 


458 


FIGHTING FI11E. 


When he opened the door, says he, u What do you 
disturb me thus for? ” The boy, though a little sur¬ 
prised, replied, u I come from such a one, and my 
master sent me for the money which he says you know 
of.” “ Very well child,” returns the living ghost, “call 
as you go by, at Cripplegate church, and bid them 
ring the bell;” and with these words shut the door 
again, and went up again and died the same day. 

Defoe’s narrative of the great London plague and 
the pages of contemporary writers are crowded with 
incidents told with a circumstantiality that is startling. 
The story of the blind piper who was taken for dead 
in the street when only stupid drunk is familiar to all, 
and how, coming out of his stupor in the cart, and 
striking up his pipes, all the burial men took fright 
and ran away. This is a touch of the ludicrous in the 
midst of the generally sorrowful and painful. 

A well-dressed gentleman obtained lodgings at the 
Pyed Bull, an inn at Islington, and was shown to a 
garret room, the servant assuring him that they had 
no better. “Well,” says he, “I must make shift, this 
is a dreadful time, but it is but for one night,” so he 
sat down upon the bed-side, and bade the maid, I 
think it was, fetch him a pint of warm ale ; accord¬ 
ingly, the servant went for the ale, but some hurry in 
the house, which, perhaps, employed her other ways, 
put it out of her head and she went up no more to 
him. 

The next morning, seeing no appearance of the 
gentleman, somebody in the house asked the servant 
that had shown him up stairs what had become of him. 
She started: “Alas,” says she, “I never thought more 
of him; he bade me carry him some warm ale, but I 
forgot j” upon which, not the maid, but some other 


THE CITY OF DESOLATION. 


459 


person was sent up to see after him, who, coming into 
the room, found him stark dead, and almost cold, 
stretched out across the bed ; his clothes were pulled 
off, his jaw fallen, his eyes open in a most frightful 
posture, the rug of the bed being grasped hard in one 
of his hands, so that it was plain he died soon after 
the maid left him, and it is probable, had she gone up 
with the ale, she had found him dead in a few minutes 
after he had sat down upon .the bed. The alarm was 
great in the house, as any one may suppose, they 
having been free from the distemper till that disaster, 
which, bringing the infection to the house, spread it 
immediately to other houses round about it. 

One man infected, running out of his bed in his 
shirt, in the anguish and agony of his swellings, of 
which he had three upon him, got his shoes on and 
went to put on his coat, but the nurse resisting and 
snatching the coat from him, he threw her down, r4n 
over her, ran down stairs and into the street, directly 
to the Thames, in his shirt, the nurse running after 
him and calling to the watch to stop him; but the 
watchman, frightened at the man, and afraid to touch 
him, let him go on; upon which he ran down to the 
Still-yard stairs, threw away his shirt, and plunged 
into the Thames; and being a good swimmer, swam 
quite over the river; and the tide coming in, as they 
call it, that is, running westward, he reached the land 
not till he came about the Falcon stairs, where, land¬ 
ing, and finding no people there, it being in the night, 
he ran about the streets there, naked as he was, for a 
good while, when, it being by that time high water, 
he takes the river again, and swam back to the Still- 
yard, landed, ran up the streets to his own house, 
knocking at the door, went up the stairs and into his 


460 


FIGHTING FIKE. 


bed again; and that this terrible experiment cured him 
of the plague, that is to say, that the violent motion of 
his arms and legs stretched the. parts where the swell¬ 
ings he had upon him were, that is to say, under his 
arms and in his groin, and caused them to ripen and 
break; and that the cold of the water abated the 
fever in his blood. 

Among the traditions of the plague is the following 
story. It seems more like a nightmare than anything 
which really happened, still, as there is nothing im¬ 
probable in the nature of the facts, we subjoin it for 
the delectation of such of our readers as like stories 
that are purely horrible. 

John Colby^ a W'ealthy goldsmith of London, had 
early in June of that year, removed his family and 
effects to his country house in Ilarefield. His only 
son had been receiving his education at Padua, and 
was expected home early in the fall. His father re¬ 
ceived in August a letter from him by which he 
learned that he had embarked upon the ship Fire 
Drake and would arrive in the Thames in about ten 
days. 

Near the appointed time Colby started upon horse¬ 
back to meet him, expecting to make a circuit around 
the city and so through Surrey into Kent, where at 
Woolwich he hoped to find the vessel. Nightfall 
overtook him in the suburbs of the city. His horse 
had become suddenly lame ; the inns were abandoned 
and he had no alternative but to push through the city 
on foot till he could find shelter and food. His route 
led him directly through the districts which had been 
most severely infected. His corpulent habit of body 
and age prevented him making all the speed he 
wished, and by the time he had reached St. Giles 


THE CITY OF DESOLATION. 


461 


where the plague was then raging furiously, he was 
quite spent and breathless. The scenes through which 
he was passing were such as to shake far stronger 
nerves than the worthy goldsmith possessed, for he 
had passed his life in peaceful scenes and was nat¬ 
urally a timorous man. As he paced along the 
lonely, dim streets, he caught glimpses of terrified 
faces at the windows of infected houses, heard dole¬ 
ful cries of pain and lamentation, saw the doors 
marked with the red cross, and the dark figures of 
the drowsy watchmen, with their lanterns faintly 
twinkling and making the darkness more visible. The 
air was heavy with the fumes of pitch and the smell 
of strong essences mixed with the dank and noisome 
vapors of the pestilence. 

Overcome with his exertions in rapid walking, bathed 
in a cold perspiration of fear, he paused to take breath 
near a large house in the upper windows of which was 
one candle sending out its flickering light into the sur¬ 
rounding gloom. All was still within. There was the 
terrible cross upon the door, and there* was the watch¬ 
man sitting upon the doorstep with his head leaning 
against the doorway, evidently plunged in the deep 
sleep produced by protracted vigils. As he stood 
riveted to the spot in silent horror he saw a lower 
window of the infected mansion slowdy open and a 
man’s head thrust out, apparently to see if he was ob¬ 
served by the watchman. A moment after the figure 
issued from the window and stood upon the pavement. 
He was a man in the prime of life, clothed only in his 
shirt and drawers, a frowsy napkin bound about his 
head, and his neck swathed in folds of linen. As he 
turned his face towards the place where the honest 
goldsmith was standing he showed him a distorted 


462 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


visage and eyes sparkling with ferocity. He came 
towards him with his hands stretched out as if in 
penance. 

The goldsmith turned from the dreadful sight and 
summoning up all his strength walked rapidly away. 
After walking thus the distance of a square on turning 
his head over his shoulder, what was his horror at 
seeing that the plague-stricken had quickened his 
pace and, without the goldsmith’s hearing him, for he 
was barefoot, was nearly treading on the heels of the 
now thoroughly affrighted man, who broke immedi¬ 
ately into as fast a run as his fears and exhaustion 
would permit. The plague-stricken followed his ex¬ 
ample, and being a stronger and younger man, easily 
kept close behind the panting goldsmith, now and then 
the latter, turning his head, could see the plague- 
stricken almost touching him, his distorted face wearing 
a hideous leer of mingled pain and invitation, could 
feel the pestilential breath almost fanning his cheek as 
he turned. Up one street, down another, round sharp 
corners, and the dead-cart men and watchmen at the 
doors of the infected houses stood staring at the 
dreadful race. The blood flew into the goldsmith’s 
head, sparks danced before his eyes, and just as 
they passed out from St. Giles he was about to drop 
with terror and exhaustion when the plague-stricken, 
muttering frightful imprecations, suddenly gave a loud 
cry and dropped, a corpse, upon the pavement. The 
dead cart soon bore him away, a fearful sight, even in 
death, to the goldsmith, who now pursued his journey 
as well as the effect of such a danger would admit. 

“In that very moment,” says the chronicler, “when 
we might very well say, ‘Vain was the help of man/ 
I say, in that very moment it pleased God with a most 


THE CITY OF DESOLATION. 


463 


agreeable surprise, to cause the fury of it to abate, 
even of itself; and the malignity declining, as I have 
said, though infinite numbers were sick, yet fewer 
died; and the very first week’s bill decreased 1,843, 
a vast number indeed. 

It is impossible to express the change that appeared 
hi the very countenances of the people that Thursday 
morning when the weekly bill came out; it might 
have been perceived in their countenances that a 
secret surprise and smile of joy sat on everybody’s 
face; they shook one another by the hands in the 
street who would hardly go on the same side of the 
way with one another before ; where the streets were 
not too broad they would open their windows and 
call from one house to another, and asked how they 
did and if they had heard the good news that the plague 
was abated ; some would return when they said good 
news, and ask, ‘What good news ? ’ and when they 
answered that the plague was abated and the bills de¬ 
creased almost two thousand, they would cry out, 

‘ God be praised,’ and would weep aloud for joy, telling 
them they had heard nothing of it; and such was the 
joy of the people that it was, as it were, life to them 
from the grave. I could almost set down as many 
extravagant things done in the excess of their joy as 
of their grief; but that would be to lessen the value 
of it. 

In the last week of July the number of burials 
amounted to 2,010; but the first week of August it 
rose to 3,871; thence to 3,880; then to 4,237; the 
next week to 6,102; and at last to 7,000 and 8,000 
weekly. In the last week of September, however, 
the fury of the disease began to abate; though vast 
numbers were sick, yet the number of burials de- 


464 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


creased from 7,155 , to 5,538 ; tlie next week there 
was a further decrease to 4,929, then to 4,327, next 
to 2,665, then to 1,421, and the next week to 1,031. 

At last, on the cessation of the disease in the winter 
of 1665, the inhabitants who had fled returned to their 
habitations, and London, to appearance, became as 
populous as ever, though it was computed that 
100,000 persons had been carried off by the plague. 


v 


CHAPTER XXYIII. 
THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON. 


London in 1666 and 1872.—Preparing Combustibles for the Conflagration 
—The Fire Bell at the Dead of Night.—Burning of St. Magnus* 
Church.—Swiftness of the Flames.—Stupefaction of the Citizens.—• 
Vain Efforts of the Firemen to stem the Tide of Fire.—Syringes at a 
Discount.—Account of an Eye-witness.—Extract from Pepy’s Diary.— 
A Graphic Narrative of the Fire on Sunday.—King Charles II. and his 
Officers Fighting the Flames.—Escaping across the River.—An Arch 
of Fire in the Sky.—A Night of Terror. 


HE London of 1666 was quite a different 
city from the London of 1872. The 
former, with its dusky, narrow, crooked 
streets; its old, wooden, thatched houses, 
with garrets overhanging and approach¬ 
ing those of the opposite houses; the walls 
of lath, and plaster, and mud; the thoroughfares 
dimly lighted with tallow candles, placed at uncertain 
intervals, and kept burning till only nine o’clock in 
the evening; its one line of irregular arches, extend¬ 
ing across the River Thames, and overhung by piles 
of mean and crazy buildings, garnished with scores 
of moldering heads, sad relics of a barbarous custom. 
The latter, with its broad, well-paved and lighted 

(465) 






466 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


avenues ; its stately palaces of luxury, commerce, and 
art; its solid and enduring magnificence. 

London in 1666, like Chicago in 1872, presented a 
vast pile of combustibles for the fire fiend to riot 
upon at his will. “At the time of the Restoration 
(1660)” says Macaulay, “it had been built for the 
most part of wood and plaster; the few bricks that 
were used were ill baked; the booths where goods 
were exposed for sale projected far into the streets, 
and were overhung by the upper stories.” 

It is a noteworthy coincidence that the great fire 
in London, and that in Chicago, both broke out 
between sunset' on Saturday night and sunrise on 
Sunday morning; both occurred also in the fall, when 
everything had been dried and baked by the sum¬ 
mer’s sun; both were fanned by a heavy gale of wind, 
and both devoured the wooden houses and the mas¬ 
sive fire-proof structures with almost equal quickness. 

But let us hasten to our narrative. Hardly had 
the plague, whose ravages we have described, so far 
abated that the inhabitants had begun to return to 
their houses, when a new and terrible calamity visited 
the unfortunate city. At one o’clock in the morning 
of Sunday, September 2d, 1666, the slumbering citi¬ 
zens were awoke from their sleep by the cry of fire ! 
It had broken out in a baker’s shop in Pudding Lane, 
by Fish street, in Billingsgate Ward, in the lower 
part of the city, among rotten wooden houses, full of 
combustible goods, which seem to have been placed 
there as if to furnish a special fuel for the conflagra¬ 
tion. Making swift havoc of some dozens of the 
frail wooden houses, it rushed down the hill towards 
the bridge, crossed Thames street, and attacked St. 
Magnus’ Church at the foot of the bridge. 


THE GREAT EIRE OF LONDON. 


467 


This church was an ancient edifice of great size, 
built of huge blocks of stone and solid beams of oak. 
For a brief space only it resisted the fire, which soon 
took possession of it, and, like a merciless conqueror, 
shot its flames in all directions, and soon caught hold 
of the piles of buildings on the bridge and leveled 
them to the ground. Stayed in its course by the 
bridge, a very solid structure, and the river, it 
turned and marched back into the city again, its 
roaring batallions running upon the double quick 
through Thames street westward, where having such 
piles of combustible material to feed upon, it rioted 
for hours without pause or check: 

Breaking out as it did in the dead of night, and 
making such swift progress, the affrighted citizens had 
hardly time to dress themselves and run to the scene 
of the disaster, where it had already fastened with 
a firm and tenacious grip upon the devoted city. 
The spectators were too much terrified and amazed to 
avail themselves of timely remedies, but merely set 
about moving their goods anl household furniture, 
which in turn were overtaken and devoured by the 
nimble flames. 

The raging east wind soon fomented the flames, 
raising them in a moment from the bottom to the 
tops of the houses, and scattered huge flakes and 
brands; which were whirled into the air to a vast 
height as if to threaten the very heavens. 

The firemen were on the ground soon after the fire 
made its appearance. Some brought ladders, some 
buckets, and large syringes, and some rude engines, 
like what we have described in another part of 
this volume, but their arts and efforts were of no 
avail against the violence of the fire. The citizens 


4G8 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


were for a time encouraged to hope that the flames 
would yield to the streams of water thrown by so 
marry stout arms which wielded the engines and 
handled the buckets. But when it became apparent 
that no human effort would avail to extinguish the 
flames, they abandoned themselves to the wildest grief; 
some cast themselves down on their knees and prayed 
to Almighty God to spare their beloved homes; some 
ran about tearing their hair ; while some stood in 
fixed attitudes like statues of despair. 

The streets resounded with the wailings of women 
and decrepit old people who had been driven from 
their burningGiomes, and the wildest confusion every¬ 
where prevailed. 

The Lord Mavor and his officers endeavored in vain 
to restore order among the frantic rabble, and the 
city train bands were pressed back or shoved aside by 
the solid masses of the crowd, swaying this way and 
that, according as their wild impulses directed. 

Tens of thousands of Londoners had slept in their 
beds that night for the last time. At seven o’clock 
the' next morning three hundred houses had been 
already burned, and yet the fire raged more violently 
than ever. That day was the Sabbath—such a Sab¬ 
bath as had never dawned on London. Some of the 
churches were now on fire. In the language of an 
ancient writer: “God seemed to come down and 
preach himself in them, as he did in Sinai/when the 
mount burned with fire; such warm preaching those 
churches never had; in other churches ministers were 
preaching their farewell sermons; and people were 
hearing with quaking and astonishment; instead of a 
holy rest which Christians had taken that day, there 
was a tumultuous hurrying about the streets towards 


THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON. 


469 


the place that burned, and more tumultuous hurrying 
upon the spirits of those that sat still, and had only 
the notice of the ear, of the strange and quick 
spreading of the fire.” 

The train-bands, who were now in full force, were 
set to watch against incendiaries, for wild rumors were 
afloat that fire-balls had been thrown into houses to 
help spread the fire. The King had been advised of 
the calamity, but did not appreciate its extent till he 
was informed of it by Samuel Pepys, the Secretary to 
the Admiralty, from whose quaint diary we quote 
the following extracts: 

"Sept. 2nd, (Lord’s day) 1666. Some of our maids 
sitting up late last night, to get things ready against 
our feast to day. Jane called us up about three in the 
morning, to tell us of a great f re they saw in the city 
So I rose and slipped on my night-gown, and went to 
her window; and thought it to be on the back side of 
Marke lane at the farthest, but being unused to such 
fires as followed, I thought it far enough off; and so 
went to oed again, and to sleep. About seven rose 
again to dress myself, and then looked out at the win¬ 
dow, and saw the fire not so much as it w T as, and further 
off. By and by Jane comes and tells me that she 
heard above 3G0 houses had been burned down to¬ 
night by the fire w T e saw, and that it is now burning 
down all Fish street, by London Bridge. So I made 
myself ready presently, and walked to the Tower, and 
there got up upon one of the high places. Sir J. Ptob- 
inson’s little son going with me; and there I did see 
the houses at that end of the bridge all on fire, and 
an infinite great fire on this and the other side the 
end of the bridge; which, among other people did 
trouble me for poor little Michell and our Sarah on the 


470 FIGHTING FIRE. 

bridge. So down, with my heart full of trouble, to the 
Lieutenant of the Tower, who tells me that it began 
this morning in the King’s baker’s house, in Pudding 
lane, and that it hath burned down St. Magnus’ Church 
and most part of Fish street already. So I dowm to the 
water side, and there got a boat, and through the 
bridge, and there saw a lamentable fire. Poor 
Michell’s house, as far as the Old Swan, already 
burned that way, and the fire running further, that in 
a very little time it got as far as the State yard, while 
I was there. Everybody endeavoring to remove their 
goods, and flinging them into the river, or bringing them 
into lighters that lay off; poor people staying in their 
houses as long as till the very fire touched them, and 
then running into boats, or clambering from one pair 
of stairs by the water side to another. And among 
other things, the poor pigeons, I perceive, were loth 
to leave their houses, but hovered about the windows 
and balconys till they burned their wings and fell 
down. Having staid, and in an hour’s time saw the 
fire rage every way, and nobody, to my sight, 
endeavoring to quench it, but to remove their goods, 
and leave all to the fire, and having seen it get as far 
as the State yard, and the wind mighty high, and 
driving it into the city; and everything after so long 
a drought proving combustible, even the very stones 
of churches, and among other things, the poor steeple 

by which pretty Mrs. -lives, and whereof my old 

school fellow Elborough is parson, taken fire at the 
very top, and there burned till it fell down. I to 
White Hall (with a gentleman with me, who desired 
to go of! from the tower, to see the fire, in my boat); 
and there up to the King’s closet in the Chapel, wdiere 
people came about me, and I did give them an 



THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON. 47 J 

account which dismayed them all, and word was carried 
to the King. So I was called for, and did tell the King 
and Duke of York what I saw, and that unless his 
Majesty did command houses to be pulled down, 
nothing could stop the fire. They seemed much 
troubled, and the King commanded me to go to my 
Lord Mayor from him, and command him to spare no 
houses, but to pull down before -the fire every way. 
The Duke of York bid me tell him, that if he would 
have any more soldiers; he shall; and so did my Lord 
Arlington afterwards, as a great secret. Here meet¬ 
ing Captain Cocke, I in his coach, which he lent me, 
and went with me to Paul’s, and there walked along 
Watling street, as well as I could, every creature com¬ 
ing away loaden with goods to save, and here and 
there sick people carried away in beds. Extraordi¬ 
nary good goods carried in carts and on backs. At 
last met my Lord Mayor in Canning street, like a man 
spent, with a handkercher about his neck. To the 
King’s message, he cried, like a fainting woman, 
‘Lord! what can I do? I am spent: people will not 
obey me, I have been pulling down houses; but the 
fire overtakes us faster than we can do it.’ That he 
needed no more soldiers; and that, for himself, he 
must go and refresh himself, having been up all night. 
So he left me, and I him, and walked home; seeing 
people almost distracted, and no manner of means 
used to quench the fire. The houses were so very 
thick thereabouts, and full of matter for burning, as 
pitch and tar, in Thames street; and warehouses of 
oyle and wines, and brandy, and other things. As 
soon as I dined I walked through the city, the streets 
full of nothing but people, and horses and carts, 
loaden with goods, ready to run over one another, 

28 


472 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


and removing goods from one burned house to another. 
And again to see the fire which was now got further 
both below and above (the bridge). Met with the 
King and Duke of York in their barge, and with 
them to Queenhith, and there called Sir Kichard 
Brown to them. 

Their order was only to pull down houses apace, and 
so below bridge at the water-side; but little was or 
could be done, the fire coming upon them so fast. 
Good hope there was of stopping it at the Three 
Cranes above, and at Buttolph’s wharf below bridge, 
if care be used; but the wind carries it into the city, 
so as we knew not by the water-side what it do there. 
Biver full of lighters and boats taking in goods, and 
good goods swimming in the water, and only I observed 
that hardly one lighter or boat in three that had the 
goods of a house in, but there was a pair of Virginalls 
in it * * * * Walked to my boat; and there upon 

the water again, and to the lire up and down, it still 
increasing, and the wind great. So near the fire as 
we .could for smoke; and all over the Thames, with 
one’s faces in the wind, you were almost burned with a 
shower of fire drops. This is very true; so as houses 
were burned by these drops and flakes of fire, three or 
four, nay, five or six houses, one from another. When 
we could endure no more upon the water, we to a 
little ale-house on the bank-side, over against the 
Three Cranes, and there staid till it was dark almost, 
and saw the fire grow, and as it grew darker, appeared 
more and more, and in corners and upon steeples, and 
between churches and houses, as far as we could see 
up the hill of the city, in a most horrid malicious 
bloody flame, not like the fire-flame of an ordinary fire. 
We staid till it being darkish, we saw the fire as only 


THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON. 


473 


one entire arch of fire from this to the other side the 
bridge, and in a bow up the hill for a varch of above 
a mile long : it made me weep to see it. The churches, 
houses, and all on fire, and flaming at once ; and a hor¬ 
rid noise the flames made, and the cracking of houses 
at their ruin. So home with a sad heart, and there 
find everybody discoursing and lamenting the fire; 
and poor Tom Hater comes with some few of his goods 
saved out of his house, which was burned upon Fish 
Street Hill. * * * * * The goods of the merchants 
and household furniture were moved hastily from the 
lower to the upper part of the city, and were followed 
by a sad and tumultuous concourse of people. Those 
who lived at a distance from the fire were confident 
that it would be extinguished. They could scarcely 
imagine that the fire a mile off could reach their 
houses. All means to stop it however proved inef¬ 
fectual ; the wind was so high that flakes of fire and 
burning matter were carried across several streets, and 
spread the conflagration on every side. 

The evening of the Lord’s day now drew on making 
the fire more visible and dreadful. Night spread over 
the city her black curtains, which the fire now dyed 
to a deep and gloomy yellow, through which the 
moonbeams feebly struggled. The smoke that rose 
from the conflagration seemed transformed into a .cloud 
of flame which, being spread by the wind, the whole 
city at a distance seemed to be on fire. When the 
citizens saw this spectacle and observed that the force 
of the fire itself instead of being diminished became 
continually augmented, general consternation took 
possession of them and many abandoned themselves 
to despair. "Some,” says the ancient writer from 
whom we have already quoted, " are upon their knees 


474 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


in the night, pouring out tears before the Lord, inter¬ 
ceding for poor London in the day of its calamity; 
yet none can prevail to reverse that doom, which is 
gone forth against the city, the fire hath received its 
commission, and all attempts to hinder it are in vain.” 







A 


CHAPTER XXIX 
THE SECOND DAY’S HOLOCAUST. 


Rio ling among tlie Palaces.—Tlie Old Story of Rascally Draymen.— 
John Eyelyn’s Narrative.—A Ramble through the Flames.—Scenes on 
the River Thames.—A Cloud of Smoke Fifty Miles Long.—A Night 
ot Battle with the Flames.—The Burning of the Royal Exchange.— 
Tuesday’s Fire.—Pepy’s Narrative.—Burning of Old St. Paul.—The 
Palace of the Flame Genii.—Magnificent Spectacle.—Guildhall burns 
next.—A Castle built of Blocks of Burning Charcoal.—Dreadful Suf¬ 
ferings of the Poor. 


UNDAY night the fire had got as far as 
Garlickhithe in Thames street, and had 
crept np into Cannon street, and levelled 
it with the ground, and still was making 
forward by the water side, and npward to 
the brow of tlie hill on which the city was 

built. 

On Monday Gracechurch street was all in flames, 
with Lombard street on the left, ami part of Fen- 
church street on the right, the fire working (though 
not so fast) aga’nst the wind that way; before it, were 
pleasant and stately lionises; behind it, ruinous and 
desolate heaps. The burning then w^as in fashion of 
a bow; a lurid, dreadful bow it was ; a bow of prom¬ 
ise, indeed, but a jiromise only of desolation and ruin. 

(475) 




476 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


“Now,” said Thomas Vincent, a writer of that 
period, “ carts and drays, and couches and horses, as 
many as could have entrance into the city, were 
loaded, and any money is given foi help; 5?., 10 1 , 
20 1 , 30/., for a cart, to bear forth into the fields some 
choice things, which were ready to be consumed, and 
some of the carmen had the conscience to accept of 
the highest price, which the citizens did then offer in 
their extremity. I am mistaken if such money do 
not burn worse than the 'fire out of which it was 
raked. Now casks of wine, and oil, and other commo¬ 
dities are tumbled along, and the owners shove as 
much of their goods as they can towards the gate; 
everyone now becomes a porter to himself, and 
scarcely a back, either of man or woman, that hath 
strength, but had a burden on it in the streets. It 
was very sad to see such throngs of poor citizens 
coming in and going forth from the unburnt parts 
heavy laden with some pieces of their goods, but 
more heavy laden with mighty grief, and sorry of 
heart, so that it is wonderful they did not quite sink 
under these burdens.” 

The following account of the fire on noonday is 
copied from the memoirs of John Evelyn, who was 
an eye witness of the conflagration:— 

“ September 3 I had public prayers at home. The 
fire continuing after dinner I took coach with my 
Wife and Sonn and went to the Bank side in South- 
wark, where w r e beheld that dismal spectacle, the 
whole citty in dreadfull flames neare the water side; 
all the houses from the Bridge, all Thames streete, 
and upwards towards Cheapside, downe to the Three 
Cranes, were now consum’d: and so returned exceed¬ 
ing astonished what would become of the rest. 



the; great fire of London. 


477 


The fire having continued all this night (if I may 
call that night which was light as day for ten miles 
round about, after a dreadfull manner) when conspiring 
with a fierce eastern wind in a very drie season; I 
went on foote to the same place, and saw the whole 
south part of the citty burning from Cheapeside to the 
Thames, and all along Corneliill (for it likewise kin¬ 
dl’d back against the wind as well as forward), Tower 
streete, Fen-church streete, Gracious streete, and so 
along to Barnard’s Castle, and was now taking hold of 
St. Paule’s church, to which the scaffolds contributed 
exceedingly. The conflagration was so universal, and 
the people so astonished, that from, the beginning, I 
know not by what despondency or fate, they hardly 
stirr’d to quench it so that there was nothing heard 
or seene but crying out and lamentation, running 
about like distracted creatures without at all attempt¬ 
ing to save even their goods; such a strange con¬ 
sternation there was upon them, so as it burned both 
in breadth and length, the churches, public halls, 
Exchange, hospitals, monuments, and ornaments, leap¬ 
ing after a prodigious manner from house to house 
and streete to streete, at greate distances one from the 
other; for the lieate with a long set of faire and warm 
weather had even ignited the aire and prepar’d the 
materials to conceive the fire, which devour’d after an 
incredible manner, houses, furniture, and everything. 
Here we saw the Thames cover’d with goods floating, 
all the barges and boates laden with what some had 
time and courage to save, as on the other, the carts, 
&c., carrying out to the fields, which for many miles 
were strewed with moveables of all sorts, and tents 
erecting to shelter both people and what goods they 
could get away. Oh, the miserable and calamitous 


478 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


spectacle! such as happly the world had not seene 
since the foundation of it, nor he outdone till the uni¬ 
versal conflagration thereof. All the skie was of a 
■ fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, arid the 
light seene above forty miles round about for many 
nights. God grant mine eyes, may never behold the 
like, who now saw above 10,000 houses all in one 
flame; the noise and cracking and thunder of the im¬ 
petuous flames, the shrieking of women and children, 
the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses and 
churches, was like an hideous storme, and the aire all 
about so hot and inflam’d that at the last one was not 
able to approach it, so that they were forc’d to stand 
still and let the flames burn on, which they did for 
neere two miles in length and one in breadth. The 
clouds also of smoke were dismall and reach’d upon 
computation neer fifty miles in length. Thus I left it 
this afternoone burning, a resemblance of Sodom, or 
the last day. It forcibly called to my mind that pas¬ 
sage, non enim Inc habcmus stabilem civitatem: the 
ruins resembling the picture of Troy. London was, 
but is no more ! Thus I returned. 

Monday was another dreadful night! When the 
wings of the night had shadowed the light of the 
heavenly bodies, there was no darkness in London, for 
the fire shone now about with a fearful blaze, which 
yielded such light in the streets as if it had been 
the sun at noon-day. The fire having wrought back¬ 
ward strangely against the wind to Billingsgate, &c/ 
along Thames street, eastward ran up the hill to Tower 
street; and having marched on from Grace-church 
street, maketh farther progress in Fen-church street; 
and having spread its rage beyond Queenhithe in 
Thames street, westward, mounted up from the wa- 


THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON. 


479 

ter side through Dowgate and Old Fish street into 
Watling street; but the great fury was in the broader 
streets. 

Late on Sunday night the flames had already 
threatened Cornhill, which was at that time a large and 
spacious street lined with piles of wood which had 
been pulled down from houses to prevent the fire 
from spreading on Monday night. Running along 
these piles the flames by Tuesday morning had firmly 
established themselves in that celebrated street and 
quickly lined it with ramparts of glowing ashes. 

Running along by the Stocks, it there met with 
another fire which came down Threadneedle street, a 
little farther with another which came up Walbrook; 
a little farther with another which came up Bucklers- 
• bury; and all these four meeting together broke with 
such a dazzling glare, burning heat, and roaring noise 
into one of the corners of Cheapside. Mercer’s 
chapel, a structure built in the solid style common in 
the middle ages, somewhat stayed the course of the 
conflagration, but after conquering this edifice as if 
enraged by its resistance, the flame rushed on with 
redoubled fury towards Cheapside. 

On sped the flames, licking up whole streets as they 
passed, mounting to the tops of the highest houses, 
descending to the bottom of the deepest cellars, they 
marched along on both sides of the way, rioting, roar¬ 
ing, and devouring everything they met like some bar¬ 
barous conqueror. No stately buildings were so great 
and massive as to resist their fury; the Royal Exchange 
itself, the glory of the merchants, was next invaded, 
and when once the fire had entered it quickly ran 
through the galleries, filling them with flames; then 
it descended the stairs, measuring the walks with 


480 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


/ • 

stealthy stride, darting forth flaming volleys as it 
passed along, and filling the whole court with its fiery 
missiles. Presently the statues of the kings with 
which the walls were adorned fell flat on their faces, 
and a moment later the ponderous walls tumbled to 
the ground with a noise like a clap of thunder. 

We resort again to Evelyn’s narrative: 

“Sept. 4th.—The burning still rages, and it was now 
gotten as far as the inner temple; all Fleet streete, 
the Old Bailey, Ludgate hill, Warwick lane, Newgate, 
Paules cliaine, Watling streete, now flaming, and most 
of it reduc’d to ashes; the stones of Paules flew like 
granados, the mealting lead running downe the streetes 
in a streame, and the very pavements glowing with 
fiery rednesse, so as no horse nor man was able to tread 
on them, and the demolition had stopp’d all the pas¬ 
sages, so that no help could be applied. The eastern 
wind still more impetuously driving the flames for¬ 
ward. Nothing but the Almighty power of God was 
able to stop them, lor vaine was the help of man.” 

We give a further account of the fire on Tuesday 
the 4th from Pepy’s diary: 

4tli.—Up by break of day, to get away the remain¬ 
der of my things; which I did by a lighter at the iron 
gate; and my hands so full, that it was the afternoon 
before we could get them all away. Sir W. Pen and I 
to the Tower street, and there met the fire burning 
three or four doors beyond Mr. Howell’s, whose goods, 
poor man, his trayes, and dishes, shovells, &c., were 
flung all along Tower street in the kennels, and people 
working therewith from one end to the other; the fire 
coming on in that narrow street, on both sides, with 
infinite fury. Sir W. Batter, not knowing how to re¬ 
move liis wine, did dig a pit in the garden, and laid it 


THE GREAT EIRE OF LONDON. 


481 

in there; and I took the opportunity of laying all the 
papers of my office that I could not otherwise dispose 
of. And in the evening Sir W. Pen and I did dig 
another, and put our wine in it; and I my parmazan 
cheese, as well as my wine and some other things. * * 
* * ❖ * * Only now and then, walking into the gar¬ 
den, saw how horribly the sky looks, all on a fire in 
the night, was enough to put us out of our wits; and 
indeed, it was extremely dreadful, for it looks just as 
if it was at us, and the whole heaven on fire. I after 
supper walked in the dark down to Tower street, and 
there saw it all on fire, at the Trinity House on that 
side, and the Dolphin Tavern on this side, which was 
very near us; and\the fire with extraordinary vehe¬ 
mence. Now begins the practice of blowing up of 
houses in Tower street, those next the Tower, which 
at first did frighten the people more than anything; 
but it stopped the fire where it was done, it bringing 
down the houses to the ground in the same places they 
stood, and then it was easy to quench what little fire 
was in it, though it kindled nothing almost. W. 
Hewer this day went to see how his mother did, and 
comes late home, telling us how he hath been forced 
to remove her to Islington, her home in Pye-corner 
being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way, 
and to the Old Bayly, and was running down to Fleet 
street; and Paul’s is burned, and all Cheapside. I 
wrote to my father this night, but the post house being 
burned, the letter could not go. 

On Tuesday the fire was burning up the very bowels 
of London; Cheapside was all in a light blaze within 
a few hours’ time; this noted thoroughfare was the 
fiery focus towards which many lines of fire converged 
and met; from Soper-lane, Bowlane, Bread street, 


FIGHTING FIEE. 


4S2 

Friday street, and Old Change the fires came up 
almost together, and broke furiously into the broad 

street. 

To quote from a contemporary writer: “ Now the fire 
gets into Blackfriars and so continues its course by the 
water, and makes up toward St. Paul’s church on that 
side, and Cheapside fire besets the great building on 
this side; and the church, though all of stone out¬ 
ward, though naked of houses about it, and though so 
high above all buildings in the city, yet within awhile 
doth yield to the violent assaults of the all-conquering 
flames, and strangely takes fire at the top; now the 
lead melts and runs down, as if it had been snow be¬ 
fore the sun; and the great beams and massy stones, 
with a hideous noise, fell on the pavement, and broke 
through into Faith church underneath; and great 
flakes of stone scale and peel off strangely from the 
side" of the walls; the conqueror having got this high 
fort, darts its flames round about; now Paternoster 
row, Newgate street, the Old Bailey, and Ludgate hill, 
have submitted themselves ito the devouring fire, which, 
with wonderful speed, rushes down the hill into Fleet 
street. Now Cheapside fire marcheth along Ironmon¬ 
ger lane, Old-jury, Lawrence lane, Milk street, Wood 
street, Gutter lane, Foster lane; now it comes along 
Lo tilbury, Cateaton street, &c. From Newgate street 
it assaults Christ church, conquers that great building, 
and burns through St. Martins-le-grand towards Alders- 
gate ; and all so furiously as it would not leave a house 
standing. 

All that day the flakes of fire mounted up to the 
sky and the yellow smoke ascended up towards heaven 
like the smoke of a great furnace; the sun was dark¬ 
ened at noon-tide, and when it peeped forth looked 


THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON. 


483 

red as blood and travellers could ride together at 
noon-tide in the shadow of it for many miles, though 
there were no other clouds to be seen in the sky.” 

If Monday night was terrible Tuesday night was 
much more so; for then by far the greatest part of the 
city was consumed; many thousands who, on Saturday 
had houses convenient in the city, both for themselves 
and to entertain others, had not where to lay their 
heads ; and the fields were the only receptacle they 
could find for themselves and their few remaining* 
goods; most of the late inhabitants lay all night in 
the open air with no other canopy over them but that 
of heaven. The fire still made towards and threatened 
the suburbs. The most remarkable spectacle that 
night was the burning of Guildhall, the town, house 
of London, and the place where the three high courts 
of judicature were held, namely, that of the king’s 
bench, the common pleas, and the exchequer. This 
structure was built mainly of solid beams of oak har¬ 
dened by the storm and sunshine of nearly three cen¬ 
turies. For a long time it resisted the fire and would 
not flame, but smouldered away like charcoal until the 
fire penetrated its compact joints, when it appeared for 
several hours one great bright shining coal, as if it had 
been an enchanted palace of gold or a great building 
of burnished brass. 

“On Sept. 5th,” says Evelyn, “It crossed towards 
Whitehall; but oh, the confusion there was then at 
that court! It pleas’d his majesty to command me 
among the rest to looke after the quenching of Fetter 
lane end, to preserve, if possible, that part of Ilolborn, 
whilst the rest of the gentlemen tooke their several 
posts, some at one part, some at another (for now they 
began to bestir themselves, and not till now, who liith- 


434 FIGHTING FIRE. 

erto had stood as men intoxicated, with their hands 
across), and began to consider that nothing was likely 
to put a stop but the blowing up of so many houses 
as might make a wider gap than any had yet been 
made by the ordinary method of pulling them downe 
with engines; this some stout seamen proposed early 
enough to have sav’d neere the whole citty, but this 
some tenacious and avaritious men, aldermen, &c., 
would not permitt, because their houses must have 
ben of the first. It was therefore now commanded to 
be practic’d, and my concerne being particularly for 
the Hospital of St. Bartholomew neere Smithfield, 
where I had many wounded and sick men, made me 
the more diligent to promote it; nor was my care for 
the Savoy lesse. It now pleas’d God by abating the 
wind, and by the industrie of the people, when almost 
all was lost, infusing a new spirit into them, that the 
furie of it began sensibly to abate about noone, so as 
it came no farther than the Temple westward, nor 
than the entrance of Smithfield north; but continu’d 
all this day and night so impetuous toward Cripple- 
gate and the Tower as made us all desjDaire; it also 
brake out againe in the Temple, but the courage of 
the multitude persisting, and many houses being blown 
up, such gaps and desolations were soone made, as 
with the former three days’ consumption, the back fire 
did not so vehemently urge upon the rest as formerly. 
There was yet no standing neere the burning and 
glowing ruines by neere a furlong’s space. 

The coale and wood wharfes and magazines of oyle, 
rosin, &c., did infinite mischiefe, so as the invective 
which a little before I had dedicated tc his Majty 
and published, giving warning what might probably 
be the issue of suffering those shops to be in the citty, 
was looked on as a prophecy. 


THE GREAT EIRE OF LONDON. 


485 

The poore inhabitants were dispers’d about St. 
George’s Fields and Moorefields, as far as Highgate, 
and severall miles in circle, some under tents, some 
under miserable butts and hovells, many without a rag 
or any necessary utensills, bed or board, who from del- 
icatenesse, riches, and easy accommodations in stately 
and well furnish’d houses, were now reduc’d to ex- 
tremest misery and poverty. 

“In this calamitous condition I return’d with a sad 
heart to my house, blessing and adoring the distin¬ 
guishing mercy of God to me and mine who, in the 
midst of all this ruine, was like Lot in my little Zoar, 
safe and sound. 







CHAPTER XXX. 


END OF THE EIRE. 

Pepy’s Diary of the Conflagration continued.—View from Barking 
Steeple.—An Ocean of Fire.—Flight to the Suburbs.—The Flames 
Dying Away.—A Stroll through the Burnt District.—Scenes and Inci¬ 
dents.—Effect of the Fire upon Metal and Stone.—Sermon by Rev. 
Thos. Vincent.—Summing-up of the Whole Matter.—Following in the 
Track of the Conflagration.—Catalogue of Losses.— $300,000,000 of 
American Money.—The Fire a Blessing in Disguise.—New London.— 
The Monument. 

EPTEMBEB 5 th.— “ And again/’ says Pepys, 
“ (going) to tlie fire; and there find greater 
hopes than I expected; for my confidence 
of finding our office on fire was such that 
I durst not ask any body how it was with 
us till I came and saw it was not burned. 
But going to the fire, I find by the blowing up of 
houses, and the great help given by the workmen 
out of the King’s yards, sent up by Sir W. Pen, there 
is a good stop given to it, as well at Market lane end 
as ours; it having burned the dyall of Barking 
Church, and part of the porch, and was there 
quenched, I up to the top of Barking steeple, and 
there saw the saddest sight of desolation that I ever 
saw; everywhere great fires, oyle-cellars, and brim- 

(486) 




LONDON. 


487 

stone, and other things burning. I became afraid to 
stay there long, and therefore down again as fast as I 
could, the fire being spread as far as I could see. 

“ I took up a piece of glass of Mercers Chapel in 
the street, where much more was so melted and 
buckled with the heat of the fire like parchment. 

“ I also did see a poor cat taken out of a hole in a 
chimney, joyning to the wall of the exchange, with 
the hair all burned of the body, and yet alive. 

“ It was pretty to see how hard the women did 
work in the cannells, sweeping of water; but then 
they would scold for drink, and be as drunk as 
devils. 

“ I saw good butts of sugar broke open in the 
street, and people give and take handsfull out, and 
put into beer, and drink it.” 

On Wednesday morning, when the people were in 
hourly expectation that the suburbs would be burned 
as well as the city, and were hastening their flight as 
fast as they could, with their luggage into the 
country and neighboring villages, the Lord took pity 
upon poor London: the wind died away; an angel 
came that had power over the fire. The citizens 
began to gather a little heart and encouragement in 
their endeavors to quench the fire. It received a 
check at Leadenhall, a huge old building, so called 
from its roof being covered with lead; it received 
another check in Bishopsgate street, Fenchurch street, 
Lime street, Mark lane, and toward the Tower partly, 
in consequence of the blowing up of houses with 
gunpowder. Its progress was stayed also in Lotil¬ 
bury street, Broad street, and Coleman street; in the 
direction of the city gates it was still burning, but 
not with any great violence, and when once the fire 

29 


488 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


was got under it was kept under. On Thursday the 
flames were extinguished. 

The scene after the fire is described by John 
Evelyn in his walk among the ruins, Thursday, 
September 7th:— 

" September 7th.— I went this morning on foote 
from Whitehall as far as London Bridge, through 
the late Fleete streete, Ludgate Hill, by St. Paules, 
Cheapeside, Exchange, Bishopsgate, Aldersgate, and 
out to Moorefields, thence through Cornehill, &c., 
with extraordinary difficulty, clambering over heaps 
of yet smoking rubbish, and frequently mistaking 
where I was. The ground under my feete so hot, 
that it even burnt the soles of my shoes. In the 
mean time his Majesty got to the Tower by water, 
to demolish the houses about the graff, which being 
built intirely about it, had they taken fire and 
attack’d the White Tower where the magazine of 
powder lay, would undoubtedly not only have beaten 
downe and destroy’d all the bridge, but sunke and 
. torne the vesse’ls in the river, and rendered the 
demolition beyond all expression for several miles 
about the countrey. 

"At my returne I was infinitely concern’d to find 
that goodly church, St. Paules, now a sad mine, and 
that beautifull portico (for structure comparable to 
any in Europe, as not long before repair’d by the 
late King) now rent in pieces, flakes of vast stone 
split asunder, and nothing remaining intire but the 
inscription in the architrave, shewing by whom it was 
built, which had not one letter of it defac’d. It was 
astonishing to see what immense stones the heate 
had in a manner calcin’d, so that all the ornaments, 
columns, freezes, capitals, and projectures of massive 


LONDON. 


489 

Portland stone flew off, even to the very roofe where 
a sheet of lead covering a great space (no less than 
six akers by measure) was totally meal ted ; the mines 
of the vaulted roofe falling broke into St. Faith’s, 
which being fill’d with the magazines of bookes 
belonging to the stationers, and carried thither for 
safety, they were all consum’d, burning for a weeke 
following. It is also observable that the lead over 
the altar at the east end was untouch’d, and among 
the divers monuments the body of one Bishop 
remain’d intire. Thus lay in ashes that most vene¬ 
rable church, one of the most antient pieces of early 
piety in the Christian world, besides neere 100 more. 
The lead yron works, bells, plate, &c., meal ted; the 
exquisitely wrought Mercer’s Chapell, the sumptuous 
Exchange, the august fabriq of Christ Church, all the 
rest of the Companies Halls, splendid buildings, 
arches, enteries, all in dust; the fountains dried up 
and ruin’d, whilst the very waters remain’d boiling; 
the voragos of subterranean cellars, wells, and dun¬ 
geons, formerly warehouses, still burning in stench 
and dark clouds of smoke, so that in five or six miles 
traversing about, I did not see one loade of timber 
unconsum’d, nor many stones but what were calcin’d 
white as snow. The people who now walk’d about 
the mines appear’d like men in some dismal desert, 
or rather in some greate citty laid waste by a cruel 
enemy, to which was added the stench that came 
from some poore creatures bodies, beds, and other 
combustible goods. Sir Tho. Gresham’s statue, tho’ 
fallen from its nidi, in the Koyal Exchange, remain’d 
in tire, while all those of the Kings since the conquest 
were broken to pieces; also the standard in Cornehill, 
and Q. Elizabeth’s effigies, with some armes on 


493 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Ludgate continued with but little detriment, whilst 
the vast yron chaines of the Citty streetes, hinges, 
barrs and gates of prisons were many of them mealted 
and reduced to cinders by the vehement heate. Nor 
was I yet able to pass through any of the narrower 
streetes, but kept the widest; the ground and air, 
smoake and fiery vapour, continu’d so intense that 
my haire was almost singed, and my feete unsuffer- 
ably surbated. The bye lanes and narrower streetes 
were quite fill’d up with rubbish, nor could one have 
possibly knowne where he was, but by the ruines of 
some Church or Hall that had some remarkable 
tower or pinnacle remaining. I then went towards 
Islington and Highgate, where one might have seen 
200,000 people of all ranks and degrees dispers’d and 
lying along by their heaps of what they could save 
from the fire, deploring their losse, and tho’ ready to 
perish for hunger and destitution, yet not asking one 
penny for reliefe, which to me appear’d a stranger 
sight than any I had yet beheld. His Majesty and 
Council indeede tooke all imaginable care for their 
reliefe by proclamation for the country to come in 
and refresh them with provisions.” 

“Thus,” says Thomas Vincent, “fell great London, 
that ancient and populous city ! London ! which was 
the queen city of the land, and as famous as most 
cities in the world! And yet, how is London departed 
like smoke, and her glory laid in the dust! How is 
her destruction come, which no man thought of, and 
her desolation in a moment! How do the nations 
about gaze and wonder! LIow doth the whole land 
tremble at her fall! How do her citizens droop and 
hang down their heads, her women and virgins weep, 
and sit in the dust! Oh ! the paleness that now sits 


CAPT. EYRE M. SHAW, PRESENT CHIEF ENGINEER OF THE 

LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 































492 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


upon the cheeks! the astonishment and confusion 
that covers the face, the dismal apprehensions that 
arise in the minds of most concerning the dreadful 
consequences which are likely to be of this fall of 
London! How is the pride of London stained, her 
beauty spoiled; her arm broken, and her strength 
departed ! Her riches almost gone, and her treasures 
so much consumed! Every (ne is sensible of the 
stroke. Never was- England in greater danger of 
being made a prey to a foreign power than after the 
firing and fall of the city, which had the strength 
and treasure of the nation in it. How is London 
ceased, that rich, that joyous city! One corner, 
indeed, is left; but more than as many houses as 
were within the walls are turned into ashes. The 
merchants now have left the Royal Exchange; the 
buyers and sellers have now forsaken the streets; 
Gracechurch street, Cornhill, Cheapside, Newgate 
Market, and the like places, which used to have 
throngs of traffickers, now are become empty of 
inhabitants; and instead of the stately houses which 
stood there last summer, they lie this winter in 
ruinous heaps. The glory of London is fled away 
like a bird; the trade of London is shattered and 
broken to pieces; her delights also are vanished, 
and pleasant things laid waste.” 

A brief resume of our narrative will give us a 
bird’s-eye view of the area covered by the fire. 

Within a few hours after the fire broke out, Bil¬ 
lingsgate ward was entirely burnt down, and before 
morning the fire had crossed Thames street, and 
destroyed the Church of St. Magnus. From thence 
it proceeded to the bridge, and consumed a great 
pile of buildings there; but was stopped by the want 


LONDON. 


493 


of any thing more to destroy. The flames, however, 
being scattered by a strong east wind, continued 
their devastation in other quarters. All efforts to 
stop it proved unsuccessful throughout the Sunday. 
That day it proceeded up as far as Garlickhithe, and 
destroying Canon street, invaded Cornliill and the 
Exchange. On Monday, the flames having proceeded 
eastward against the wind, through Thames street, 
invaded Tower street, Gracechurch street, Fenchurch 
street, Tongate, Old Fifth street, Wading street, 
Threadneedle street, and several others, from which 
it broke at once into Cheapside. In a few hours 
Cheapside was all in flames, the fire having reached 
it from so many places at once. The fire then con¬ 
tinuing its course from the river on one side, and 
from Cheapside on the other, surrounded the cathe¬ 
dral of St. Paul’s. Such was the violence of the 
flames, and the heat of the atmosphere occasioned by 
them, that the cathedral took fire at the top, and in 
a short time was reduced to ashes, after which the 
flames invaded Paternoster row, Newgate street, the 
Old Bailey, Ludgate hill, Fleet street, Ironmonger 
lane, Old Jury, Laurence lane, Milk street, Wood 
street, Gutter lane, Foster lane, Lothbury, Cabeaton 
street; and, having destroyed Christ Church, burnt 
furiously through St. Martin’s le Grand, towards 
Aldersgate, and so on till it died away in the out¬ 
skirts of the city, as already described. 

The following is a calculation of the damage done 
by this extraordinary conflagration: 


Thirteen thousand two hundred houses, at 12 years purchase, 
supporting the rent of each 25 1 . sterling, 

Eighty-seven parish churches, at 8 , 0001 ., 

Six consecrated chapels, 2,000Z., ■ 

The lloyal Exchange, - 


£3,960,000 

696,000 

12,000 

50,000 


494 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


The Custom-House, - 10,000 

Fifty-two halls of companies, at 1500/. each, - - 78,000 

1 hree city gates, at 3000/. each, - 9,000 

Jail of Newgate, _____ 15,000 

Four stone bridges, 6,000 

Session-House, 7,000 

Guild Hall, with the courts and offices belonging to it, - 40,000 

Blackwell Hall, ------ 3,000 

Bridewell, ------ 5,000 

Poultry Compter, - 3,000 

Wood street Compter, _____ 3,000 

St. Paul’s Church, 2,000,000 

W ares, household stuff, money and movable goods, lost and 

spoiled, ------- 2,000,000 

Hire of porters, carts, wagons, barges, boats, etc., for remov¬ 
ing goods, ------ 200,000 

Printed books and paper, in shops and warehouses, - - 150,000 

Wine, tobacco, sugars, etc., of which the town was at that 

time very full, _____ 6,500,000 


£1^,689,000 

The sum total of the losses is equal to in our time - $300,000,000 


The following is a certificate of the Surveyors, 
appointed to survey the ruins: 

The fire began September 2d, 1666, at Mr. Farryner’s, a baker, in Pud¬ 
ding lane, between one and two in the morning, and continued burning 
till the 6th; did overrun three hundred and seventy-three acres, within 
the walls. Eighty-nine parish churches, besides chapels, burnt. Eleven 
parishes, within the walls, standing. Houses burnt, thirteen thousand 
and two hundred. 

JONAS MOOBE, 7 c 
RALPH GATRIX, j s F v eyors. 

The following proclamation of the King prepared 
the way for reconstructed London: 

“ In the first place, the woeful experience in this 
late heavy visitation hath sufficiently convinced all 
men of the pernicious consequences which have at¬ 
tended the building with timber, and even with stone 
itself, and the notable benefit of brick, which in so many 
places hath resisted, and even extinguished the fire; 



LONDON. 


495 


and we do, therefore, hereby declare our express will 
and pleasure that no man whatsoever, shall presume 
to erect any house or building, great or small, but of 
brick or stone ; and if any man shall do the contrary 
the next magistrate shall forthwith cause it to be 
pulled down, and such further course shall be taken 
for his punishment as he deserves; and we suppose 
that the notable benefit many men have rendered 
from these cellars which have been well and strongly 
arched, will persuade most men who built good 
houses to practice that good husbandry, by arching 
all convenient places.” 

Whatever the unfortunate citizens of London suf¬ 
fered by this dreadful fire, it is manifest that a greater 
blessing could not have happened for the good of pos¬ 
terity ; for, instead of very narrow, crooked and 
incommodious streets, dark, irregular and ill-contrived 
wooden houses, with their several stories jutting out, 
or hanging over each other, whereby the circulation of 
the air was obstructed, noisome vapors harbored, and 
verminous, pestilential atoms nourished, as is manifest 
by the city not being clear of the plague for twenty- 
five years before, and only free from contagion three 
years in above seventy ; enlarging of the streets, and 
modern way of building, there is such a free circula¬ 
tion of sweet air through the streets, that offensive 
vapors are expelled and the city freed from the pesti¬ 
lential symptoms; so that it may now justly be 
averred that there is no city in Great Britain where 
the inhabitants enjoy a better state of health, or live 
to greater age, than the citizens of London. 

Near the north side of London Bridge stands the Mon¬ 
ument, a beautiful and magnificent fluted column 
of the Doric Order, built Portland stone, to the 


496 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


height of 202 feet, and erected in memory of the con¬ 
flagration, and bears, among others, the following in¬ 
scription : 

“ This pillar was set up in perpetual remembrance 
of the most dreadful burning of this Protestant city, 
begun and carried on by the treachery and malice of 
the Popish faction, in the beginning of September, in 
the year of our Lord, 1666, in order to their carrying 
on their horrible plot for extirpating the Protestant 
religion and old English liberty, and introducing 
Popery and slavery.” 

This inscription in commemorating the fire also 
placed upon record the belief of the people that the 
city w T as set on fire by the papists—a belief which later 
historical criticism has declared to be without founda¬ 
tion. 

Pope alludes to this inscription in his lines: 

Where London’s column, pointing at the skies, 

Like a tall bully, rears its head, and lies. 





CHAPTER XXXI. 


THE OTHER GREAT FIRES OF HISTORY. 

Burning of Rome by Nero.—Account of tlie Conflagration from Tacitus. 
—Almost Total Destruction of the Eternal City.—Incendiarism upon a 
Gigantic Scale.—Burning of Moscow by the Tartars, 1571.—Frightful 
Loss of Life.—Pyramids of Roasted Corpses.—Constantinople Fires.— 
The Ashes of 100,000 Buildings.—Burning of Moscow in the Russian 
Campaign of Napoleon.—An Army Driven Back into the Snow.—A 
Fiend-like Patriotism.—The Blazing Kremlin and the Freezing Soldiers. 
—The Conflagration in New York 1845—Great Explosion and Loss 
of Life. 



MEMORABLE fire occurred at Rome in 
tlie reign of the Emperor Nero, in the 
month of July, A. D., 64, which destroyed 
JS nearly five-sevenths of the city and in- 
eluded within its ruins the most stately 
temples and public buildings of the Em¬ 
press of the World and her rarest and most valuable 
collections of literature, science, and art. Popular tra¬ 
dition makes the bloody tyrant Nero the author of 
this dreadful conflagration. It is said that he stood 

(497) 


498 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


upon a high tower during the continuance of the con¬ 
flagration, enjoying the sight and singing, in a theat¬ 
rical manner to his harp, verses upon the burning of 
Troy. 

We copy from the vivid pages of Tacitus, the his¬ 
torian, the following description of the burning of 
Rome: 

u A dreadful calamity followed in a short time after, 
by some ascribed to chance, and by others to the exe¬ 
crable wickedness of Nero. The authority of histori¬ 
ans is on both sides, and which predominates it is not 
easy to determine. It is, however, certain, that of all 
the disasters that ever befell the city of Rome from the 
rage of fire, this was the worst, the most violent 
and destructive. The flames broke out in that part of 
the circus which adjoins, on one side, to Mount Pala¬ 
tine, and on the other to Mount Cmlius. It caught a 
number of shops stored with combustible goods, and, 
gathering force from the wind, spread with rapidity 
from one end of the circus to the other. Neither the 
thick walls of houses, nor the inclosure of temples, 
nor any other building, could check the rapid progress 
of the flames. A dreadful conflagration followed. 
The level parts of the city were destroyed. The fire 
communicated to the higher buildings, and again, 
laving hold of interior places, spread with a degree of 
velocity that nothing could resist. The form of the 
streets, long and narrow, with frequent windings and 
no regular opening, according to the plan of ancient 
Rome, contributed to increase the mischief. The 
shrieks and lamentations of women, the infirmities of 
age, and the weakness of the young and tender, added 
misery to the dreadful scene. Some endeavored to 
provide for themselves, others to save their friends, in 


OTHER GREAT FIRES. 


499 


\ 


one part dragging along the lame and impotent, in 

another waiting to receive the tardy, or expecting 
relief themselves ; they lingered, they obstructed one 

another, they looked behind, and the fire broke out in 
front; they escaped from the flames, and in their 
place of refuge found no safety; the fire raged in 
every quarter ; all were involved in one general con¬ 
flagration. The unhappy wretches fled to places 
remote and thought themselves secure, but soon per¬ 
ceived the flames raging round them. Which way to 
turn, what to avoid, or what to seek, no one could 
tell, they crowded the streets; they fell prostrate on 
the ground; they lay stretched in the field in con¬ 
sternation and dismay, resigned to their fate. Num¬ 
bers lost their whole substance, even the tools and 
implements by which they gained their livelihood, 
and, in that distress, did not wish to survive. Others, 
wild with affliction for their friends and relations 
whom they could not save, embraced a voluntary 
death, and perished in the flames. During the whole 
of this dismal scene no man dared to attempt anything 
that might check the violence of the dreadful calamity. 
A crew of incendiaries stood near at hand denouncing 
vengeance on all who offered to interfere. Some were 
so abandoned as to heap fuel on the flames. They 
threw in fire-brands and flaming torches, proclaiming 
aloud that they had authority for what they did. 
Whether, in fact, they had received such horrible 
orders, or, under that device, meant to plunder with 
greater licentiousness, cannot now be known.” 

The following account of the fire at Moscow, Russia, 
in 1571, including a description by an eye-witness, we 
may safely pronounce, has, in history, no parallel. We 


500 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


find that it was preceded by a plague, which, in the 
course of four months, swept away about 250,000 
people. 

u The plague was followed the year after on the 15th 
of May, by a strange ruin and conflagration; the 
emperor of the Tartareans,-being discontented that the 
Russians did not pay him some annual tribute, and 
hearing, besides, that the Great Duke returned nothing 
in answer but spiteful and reproachful words ; where¬ 
fore the Tartarean came out of his country about the 
end of February, followed with an army of 100,000 
horse, who, within the space of two months and a half 
rode about 500 German leagues, which made 2,000 
English miles. When within about two days journey 
from the frontiers of the duke, he resolved to meet 
them, and to give them battle ; but he lost it, with a 
prodigious slaughter of his men. The duke, knowing 
that the Tartarean would seek him out, hastened away 
as fast and as far as he could. He was only within 
five leagues of Moscow when the Tartareans came and 
encompassed the town; thinking that he was within, 
the}^ set fire to all the villages about it; and seeing 
that the war would prove too tedious for them, they 
resolved to burn that great city, or at least the sub¬ 
urbs of it. For this purpose, having placed their 
troops round about it, they set fire on all sides, so that 
it seemed a burning globe. Then did arise so fierce 
and violent a wind that it drove the rafters and loner 
trees from the suburbs into the city. The conflagra¬ 
tion was so sudden that nobody had time to save him¬ 
self, but in that place where he then was. The persons 
that were burnt in this fire were about 200,000, which 
happened because the houses were all of wood, and 
the streets paved with great fir trees, set close 


OTHER GREAT FIRES. 


501 


together, which being oily and resinous, made the fire 
inexpressible; so that in four hours the city and sub¬ 
urbs were wholly consumed. 

The poor country people that had saved themselves 
in the city, with their cattle, from three-score miles 
round about, seeing the conflagration, all ran into the 
market-place, which was not paved with wood as the 
rest; nevertheless, they were all roasted there, in such 
a manner that the tallest man seemed but a child, so 
much had the fire contracted their limbs; and this 
happened by reason of the great houses round about 
—a thing more hideous and frightful than can be im¬ 
agined. In many places of the market the bodies were 
piled one upon another to the height of half a pike ; 
which put me into a wonderful admiration, not being 
able to apprehend nor understand how it was pos¬ 
sible they should be so heaped together.” 

Constantinople suffered so terribly from fires during 
the last century that the following list to the com¬ 
mencement of the present century is worth recording: 

In 1729 a great conflagration destroyed above 
12,000 houses and 7,000 of the inhabitants. In 1745 
another lasted for five days. In 1749-’50, another 
destroyed 12,000 houses, and at the end of the latter 
year nearly 10,00.0 more. In 1751, 4,000 houses were 
burnt. In 1756, 500 houses were burnt; and in the 
July of the same year, 15,000 houses and 100 of the 
inhabitants were destroyed. During the years 1761,- 
’5-’7-9 and 1771, great havoc was made by fire. In 
the year 1778, 2,000 houses were burnt. In February, 
1782, 600 houses were destroyed. In June of the 
same year, 7,000 more; and in August following no 
less than 10,000 houses, 50 mosques, and 100 corn 
mills, etc., were destroyed. In 1784, 10,000 houses 


502 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


were burnt. Between March and July, 1791, it is 
said that 32,000 houses were burnt. In 1792, 7,000 
houses were burnt, and a similar number again in 
1795. In the year 1799 the suburbs of Bera had 
1,800 houses and many magnificent buildings totally 
destroyed. In 1865 another terrific conflagration 
broke out at Constantinople, by which 2,800 houses, 
public buildings, and places dedicated to public wor¬ 
ship were destroyed. Over 22,000 people were left 
homeless, and the loss of life could not be ascertained. 
The fire originated in a small two-story building, and 
thence spread in all directions, whole streets, squares, 
mosques, and government buildings being all blazing 
away at the*same time. The loss of property was 
enormous. 

The burning of Moscow in the Emperor Napoleon’s 
Russian campaign of 1812 was one of the most fear¬ 
fully dramatic spectacles of history. The great 
conqueror had reached Moscow after a series of bloody 
battles, and was preparing to winter his vast army in 
that magnificent capital when his dreams of future 
conquest were dispelled by an unexpected and terrible 
catastrophe. 

“ On the night of the 14th,” says Allison, “afire broke 
out in the Bourse behind the Bazaar, which soon con¬ 
sumed that noble edifice, and spread to a considerable 
part of the crowded streets in the vicinity. This, how¬ 
ever, was but the prelude to more extended calamities. 
At midnight on the 15th, a bright light was seen to illu¬ 
minate the northern and western parts of the city, and 
the sentinels on watch at the Kremlin soon discovered 
the splendid edifices in that quarter to be in flames. 
The wind changed repeatedly during the night, but 
to whatever quarter it veered the conflagration 








































































































































































































































































































504 


FIGHTING FII1E. 


extended itself; fresh fires were every instant seen 
breaking out in all directions, and Moscow soon 
exhibited the spectacle of a sea of flame agitated by 
the wind. The soldiers, drowned in sleep, or over¬ 
come by intoxication, were incapable of arresting its 
progress; and the burning fragments, floating through 
the hot air, began to fall on the roofs and courts of the 
Kremlin. The fury of an autumnal tempest added to 
the horrors of the scene; it seemed as if the wrath of 
heaven had combined with the vengeance of man to 
consume the invaders of the city they had conquered. 
But it was chiefly during the nights of the 18th and 
19th, that the conflagration attained its greatest vio¬ 
lence. At that time the whole city was wrapped in 
flames, and volumes of fire of various colors ascended 
to the heavens in many places, diffusing a prodigious 
light on all sides, and attended by an intolerable heat. 
These balloons of flame were accompanied in their 
ascent by a frightful hissing noise and loud explosions, 
the effect of the vast stores of oil, resin, tar, spirits, 
and other combustible materials with which the 
greater part of the shops were filled. Large pieces of 
painted canvas, unrolled from the outside of the build¬ 
ings by the violence of the heat, floated, on fire, in the 
atmosphere, and sent down on all sides a flaming 
shower, which spread the conflagration in quarters 
even the most removed from where it originated. The 
wind, naturally high, was raised by the sudden rare¬ 
faction of the air produced by the heat, to a perfect 
hurricane. The howling of the tempest drowned even 
the roar of the conflagration ; the whole heavens were 
filled with the whirl of the volumes of smoke and 
flame which rose on all sides, and made midnight as 
bright as day; while even the hardest hearts, subdued 


OTHER GREAT HIRES. 


505 


by the sublimity of the scene, and the feeling of 
human impotence in the midst of such elemental 
strife, sank and trembled in silence. The return of 
day did not diminish the terrors of the conflagration. 
An immense crowd of hitherto unseen people, who 
had taken refuge in the cellars and vaults of their 
buildings, issued forth as the flames reached their 
dwellings ; the streets were speedily filled with multi¬ 
tudes flying in every direction with their most precious 
articles, while the French army, whose discipline this 
fatal event had entirely dissolved, assembled in 
drunken crowds, and loaded themselves with the 
spoils of the city. Never in modern times had such a 
scene been witnessed. The men were loaded with 
packages, charged with their most precious effects, 
which often took fire as they were carried along, and 
which they were obliged to throw down to save 
themselves. The women had often two or three chil¬ 
dren on their backs, and as many led by the hand, 
which, with trembling steps and piteous cries, 
sought their devious way through the labyrinth of 
flame. Many old men, unable to walk, were drawn 
on hurdles or wheel-barrows by their children and 
grandchildren, while their burnt beards and smoking 
garments showed with what difficulty they had been 
rescued from the flames. Often the French soldiers, 
tormented by hunger and thirst, and loosened from 
all discipline by the horrors which surrounded them, 
not contented with the booty in the streets, rushed 
headlong into the burning edifices, to ransack their 
cellars for the stores of wine and spirits which they 
contained, and beneath‘the ruins great numbers per¬ 
ished miserably, the victims of intemperance and the 
surrounding fire. Meanwhile the flames, fanned by 


506 


OTHER GREAT FIRES. 


the tempestuous gale, advanced with frightful rapidity, 
devouring alike in their couise the palaces of the 
great, the temples of religion, and the cottages of the 
poor. For thirty-six hours the conflagration continued 
at its height, and during that time above nine-tenths 
of the city was destroyed. The remainder, abandoned 
to pillage and deserted by its inhabitants, offered no 
resources to the army. Moscow had been conquered, 
but the victors had gained only a heap of ruins. It is 
estimated that 30,800 houses were consumed, and 
the total value of property destroyed amounted to 
£30,000,000.” 

The greatest fire since that of December, 1835, that 
has devastated property in New York, began on the 
morning of the 20th of July, 1845. The fire origi¬ 
nated in the sperm oil store in New street, near the 
corner of Exchange place, about three o’clock on the 
morning named, and spread-over a great part of the 
territory which had been the scene of the conflagra¬ 
tion of 1835. The flames were communicated to a 
chair factory adjoining and nearer to the corner of 
Exchange place, whence they passed along Exchange 
place to Broad street. There they enwrapped a 
building in which was a quantity of saltpetre, or gun¬ 
powder on storage. When the building had been 
burning for about fifteen minutes a most awful explo¬ 
sion took place, which shook the city like an earth¬ 
quake. The building was blown up, and with it some 
other buildings. 

After raging for many hours and reducing to ashes 
a large portion of the business portion of the city, the 
flames were checked and the greatness of the calamity 
became fully known. 

Altogether about three hundred buildings were de- 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


507 


✓ 


stroyed, among which were the costly shrines of 
commerce and finance, and the abodes of the poverty- 
stricken. A liberal estimate of the total loss is made 
at $6,000,000, but this is belittled when the lamentable 
loss of life of which the explosion was the occasion, is 
thought of. The number of persons whose lives were 
destroyed never was accurately ascertained, but it was 
generally believed at the time that about six persons 
perished. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


THE GREAT FIRES OF HISTORY—CONTINUED. 


Blazing Quebec.—The Conflagrations of San Francisco.—The Peshtigo 
Disaster.—The First Omens.—A Tornado of Flame.—Choice of Death 
by Fire or Water.—March of the Fiery Tempest.—Seven Hundred 
Square Miles of Ashes.—Frightful Loss of Life and Property.—Tabular 
Statement of the other Remarkable Conflagrations. 



N 1845 Quebec suffered terribly from the 
same destroying element. On the 28th 
of May a fire broke out in the Faubourgh 
St. Roch, which destroyed 1,500 buildings 
before it could be quelled. Several lives 
were also lost. Exactly one month later 
1,300 buildings were burned, and by these two con¬ 
flagrations nearly two-thirds of the city was laid in 
ruins. The pecuniary loss has been stated at 



$ 8 , 000 , 000 . 

The city of San Francisco was retarded in its pro¬ 
gress toward its present proud position by many 
causes, but by nothing more than fire. The most 
destructive of the many. conflagrations which have 
occurred in that city began on the 3d of May, 1851, 
at eleven o’clock, p.m., and was not overmastered 

( 508 ) 



OTHER GREAT FIRES. 


509 


until the 5th. The loss that was caused by it 
amounted to $3,500,000, and it destroyed 2,500 
buildings. The fire began in a paint shop on the 
west side of Portsmouth Square, adjoining the Ameri- 
can House. Although but a slight blaze when dis¬ 
covered, the building was, within five minutes, 
enwrapped with flames, and before the fire-engines 
could be got to work, the American House and the 
building on the other side of the paint shop were also 
burning. The buildings being all of wood, and 
extremely combustible, the fire spread up Clay street, 
back to Sacramento, and down Clay street, towards 
Kearney, with fearful rapidity. Soon the fire depart¬ 
ment v r as compelled to give up every attempt to 
extinguish it, and to confine their work to making 
its advances less rapid. Pursuing this plan, they 
checked the flames on the north side at Dupont 
street. But in every other direction it took its own 
course, and was only arrested at the water’s edge, and 
the ruins of the houses that had been blown up. 

The shipping in the harbor was only protected by 
the breaking up of the wharves. Thousands of per¬ 
sons were made homeless, and for a long time after 
lived in tents. The Custom House, seven hotels, the 
post-office, the offices of the steamship company, and 
the banking house of Page, Bacon & Co. were de¬ 
stroyed. During the continuance of the fire a number 
of persons were burned, and others died from their 
exertions toward subduing it. Another large fire 
devastated a great portion of San Francisco in June, 
1851. It occurred on the 22d of that month, and 
500 buildings were destroyed by it. The loss was 
estimated at $3,000,000. 

Simultaneous with the Chicago calamity in 1871, 
the most terrific general conflagration known in the 


510 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


history, raged throughout various parts of the north¬ 
west, spreading devastation and death in its lurid 
pathway. 

“ The Sunday of the fire was noticed as a chilly 
day, though the atmosphere was still, and filled with 
a dense, blinding smoke. The smoke created no 
alarm, as the smouldering fires in the pineries about 
sufficiently accounted for it. Toward evening the 
smoke increased, while the chilliness of the atmos¬ 
phere perceptibly abated, and early in the evening 
gave way to occasional hot puffs from the burnt dis¬ 
tricts. Soon after eight o’clock in the evening, the 
warmth of the atmosphere still increasing, and the 
smoke almost suffocating in its density, a low, sullen 
rumbling began to be heard far away in the south¬ 
west, while a painfully ominous stillness pervaded the 
immediate vicinity of the town. At half past eight 
the far off rumbling had increased to a steady roar 
like distant thunder, or the coming of heavy freight 
trains at full speed. Men felt their way through the 
smoky streets, and congregated at the hotels, in front 
of the stores, and all other places of resort, and dis¬ 
cussed the strange sounds. Anxious mothers, ner¬ 
vously and hesitatingly put their little ones to bed, 
and then peered out in the dismal streets to see what 
they could see. Nine o’clock came, and with it an 
alarming increase of the unknown sound, which now 
resembled the roar of a dozen freight trains racing at 
full speed, the location of the sound being sensibly 
nearer the town. Suddenly there was a cry of fire 
sounding through the smoke-beclouded streets, and 
men rushed hither and thither through the impene¬ 
trable blackness, rubbing their eyes for sight, and 
stumbling against each other as they ran. But no 


OTHER GREAT FIRES. 


511 


fire was found, though the search extended out of 
the village and into the edge of the woods, and the 
excited people hurried back to their houses laughing 
at each others’ apprehensions, and trying to feel 
secure.” 

Scarcely, however, had the first alarm subsided 
when the appalling cry was again raised in another 
quarter, and the blind running and colliding and 
stumbling was again renewed as the terror-stricken 
citizens sought a second time for the flames that were 
not to be found. But while this confusion was at its 
height, and while the majority of the men were away 
from their houses groping through clouds of smoke 
and blackness, and with a roar that was almost 
deafening filling their ears, a change began to mani¬ 
fest itself in the atmosphere. The whole air seemed 
sensibly agitated, and angry puffs of almost burning 
heat came sweeping through the town, while at quick 
intervals a frightful glare penetrated the dense, dark 
smoke from the southwest, and at times seemed 
playing high up in the heavens above. Even the 
very earth seemed to quake and tremble. Horrors 
impended on every hand. Mothers caught their 
children from their beds and hastily dressed them. 
A cry of terror filled the town. Men hastened to 
their houses and collected their families about them. 
Many bolder ones caught up their valuables and 
buried them. Even the dumb beasts were seized 
with fright, and ran bellowing through the streets. 
Then came nearer, clearer, and more deadly than 
before, that horrible roar, resembling the din of a 
mighty battle, and with it the more eccentric and 
violent agitation of the atmosphere, a more continu¬ 
ous show of the lurid glare overhead and in the 


512 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


southwest; while, to add to the horror of the night, 
great balls of fire, like flaming missiles shot from 
unseen artillery, began falling on the housetops, in 
the streets, and all through the doomed village. 
T1 le scenes that followed were an aggravation, if pos¬ 
sible, of Dante’s wonderful description of hell. Men, 
women, and children, horses, oxen, cows, dogs, swine, 
fowls—everything that had life was seized with panic, 
and ran wildly, and with equal uncertainty to escape 
the impending destruction. Children got lost from 
their parents, and were trampled upon by crazed 
brutes. Husbands and wives were calling loudly for 
each other, and rushing in wild dismay, they, knew 
’ not where. 

But while the community were thus frantically 
seeking shelter anywhere and everywhere rather 
than where they chanced to be, the awdul scene 
changed, and, with the howling of a tornado, against 
which seemingly nothing could stand, came a storm 
of fire, which an eye-witness likens to the heaviest 
snowfall of winter, with each flake of snow a coal of 
fire. The heavens rained fire on every hand, as if 
to consume the whole earth. 

In an instant, nearly every building in the town 
was in a blaze. Then the fury of the tempest 
received additional strength, and burst in one mighty 
effort, as if determined that the flames should not 
rob it of its prey. Houses crumbled like paper 
structures, and flaming roofs and sides were borne 
away like gigantic sparks upon the gale, to spread 
the consuming element. A very large warehouse, 
built with a special view to withstand the gales which 
so frequently visit that region, when this tornado 
struck it went to pieces like a child’s playhouse built 


OTHER GREAT FIRES. 


513 


of cards. Whoever had not reached a place of safety 
found it impossible to move against this mighty 
storm. People threw themselves on the ground 
rather than be borne away by its violence, and 
perished where they fell. The next day a man was 
found hugging a tree, his body half consumed. The 
storm of falling cinders was succeeded quickly by a 
continuous blaze, that licked up everything with 
which it came in contact. Those in the water only 
saved themselves by keeping their bodies submerged, 
only venturing to raise their heads at intervals for a 
moment to gasp for breath. Many were drowned in 
the effort to escape burning, while others, who sought . 
to catch breath, inhaled only lurid flame, and perished. 
Even the very fishes were reached by some myste¬ 
rious agency and killed, so that the next day 
hundreds of them were found floating dead. 

A correspondent furnishes the following thrilling 
incidents of this remarkable fire :— 

“ The tornado was but momentary, but was suc¬ 
ceeded by maelstroms of fire, smoke, cinders, and red- 
hot sand. Wherever a building seemed to resist the 
fire, the roof would be sent whirling into the air, 
breaking into clouds of flame as it fell. The shower 
of sparks, cinders, and hot sand fell in continuous 
and prodigious force, and did quite as much in killing 
the people as the first terrific sirocco that succeeded 
the fire. The wretched throng, neck-deep in the 
water, and still more hapless being stretched on the 
heated sands, were pierced and blistered by these 
burning particles. They seemed like lancets of red- 
hot steel, penetrating the thickest covering. The 
evidence now remains to attest the incredible force 
of the slenderest pencils of darting flame. Hard 


514 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


iron-wood plow-handles still remain, and for the main 
point unburnt. When the hapless dwellers in the 
remote streets saw themselves cut off from the river, 
groups broke in all directions in a wild panic of 
fright and terror. A few took refuge in a cleared 
field bordering on the town.^ Here, flat upon the 
ground, with faces pressed in the mud, the helpless 
sufferers lay and roasted. But few survived the 
dreadful agony. The next day revealed a picture 
exceeding in horror any battle-field. Mothers, with 
children hugged closely, and the poor flesh seared to 
a crisp. One mother, solicitous only for her babe, 
embalms her unnutterable love in the terrible picture 
left on these woful sands. With her bare fingers she 
had scraped out a pit, as the soldiers did before 
Petersburg, and pressing the little one into this, she 
put her own body above it as a shield, and when 
daylight came both were dead—the little baby face 
unscarred, but the mother burnt almost to cinders.” 

The loss of life was vastly greater than at Chicago, 
and the destruction of property very great, most of it 
uninsured, and therefore a total loss. It is said that 
480,000 acres of timbered lands were burnt over, equal 
to 750 square miles, and that this timber burned was 
equal to that which would yield a product of 1,800,- 
000,000 feet of lumber—enough to build a large city. 

By these conflagrations more than a hundred villages 
and hamlets were destroyed, besides about six hundred 
farms with all their stock and utensils, numerous saw 
mills, flouring mills, and lumbermen's camps. The loss 
of life is said to have been not less than 1,400, and 
the loss of property in Michigan, Wisconsin, and Min¬ 
nesota, is estimated at $11,000,000. It will require 
a quarter of a century to recover from this terrible 
disaster. 



OTHER GREAT FIRES. 


515 


REMARKABLE CONFLAGRATIONS. 


A correct record of the numerous extensive confla¬ 
grations from the time of the ancients, with their 
causes, the value of the property destroyed, and the 
number of lives sacrificed, could such be obtained, 
would present a most astonishing and appalling total. 

We trust that by placing a few of them on record, 
it may lead to some reflection on the subject, and cause 
that attention to be given to so serious a matter, as 
preventing the origin, or at least the spreading of fires, 
which its importance deserves. It should be borne in 
mind that we are one and all equally interested in the 
practice and maintenance of every precaution to pre¬ 
vent Ares, and doing our utmost to extinguish them 
when broken out. 

The following list comprises some of the great con¬ 
flagrations which are recorded to have taken place at 
various times in different countries and places, omitting 
such as have been already described. 

A. D., 798. London, England, was nearly destroyed by fire. 

A. D., 982. A large fire occurred in London, England, which destroyed 
the greater portion of the city. 

1086. London, England; all the churches and houses from the east 
gate to the west gate were destroyed by fire. 

1137. City of York, England, was totally destroyed by fire. 

1212. London, England; greater part of the city, from the north to 
the south of it. Loss, $20,000,000. 

1505. Town of Munich, England; nearly consumed the whole town. 

1598. Tiverton, Devonshire, England ; 33 lives lost, 400 houses and a 
great number of horses were destroyed. $1,000,000. 1612, in a second 

conflagration, 600 houses were burnt. $1,200,000 loss. 

1613. Town of Dorchester, England; 300 houses were burnt. $1,000,- 
000 loss. 



516 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


1614. Town of Stratford-on-Avon was completely destroyed by fire. 

1644. Town of Beaminster was destroyed. In 1684 was again de¬ 
stroyed, and in 1781 one-tliird of the town was burnt. 

1675. Northampton, England; almost totally destroyed by fire. 

1679, August 8. Boston, Mass.; 150 buildings and several vessels. 
$1,000,000 loss. 

1683, Oct. 8. Boston, Mass; 75 buildings. $500,000 loss. 

1702, March 11. Boston, Mass; $2,000,000 loss. 

1711, Oct. 2. Boston, Mass; 100 houses. $500,000 loss. 

1727. Gravesend, England; totally destroyed. 

1727. Burwell, England; puppet show; 86 lives lost. $100,000 loss. 

1728. The City of Copenhagen, Denmark; 1,650 houses, 5 churches, 
the University and 4 colleges. 

1736. Moscow had 2,000 houses destroyed; and in 1752, 18,000 
houses. 

1736. St. Petersburg, Russia, 2,000 houses; in 1780, 11,000 houses; 
1796, magazine of naval stores, and 100 vessels; in 1837 the Winter 
Palace was consumed. 

1743. Crediton, Devonshire; 450 houses. In 1769 the town was 
nearly destroyed a second, time. 

1744. Brest; loss of $20,000,000. 1784, loss $5,000,000. 

1748, March 25. London, England; wdien 200 buildings in the Corn- 
hill ward were burned. 

1751. Stockholm, Sweden; destroyed 1,000 houses. 

1752. Towm of Pierre, island of Martinique ; 700 houses burnt. 

1756, Dec. 2. Cairo, Egypt; 50 mosques and other buildings. 300 

lives lost. $40,000,000 loss. 

1760. Portsmouth dockyard. $2,000,000 loss. In 1770 another fire 
caused the loss of $500,000 ; and in 1796 another fire did serious damage. 

1760, March 20. Boston, Mass; 133 dwellings, 36 barns, 63 stores, 66 
shops, in all 299 buildings. $350,000 loss. 

1762. Munich; destroyed 200 houses. 

1763. Archangel, Russia; was destroyed by fire; 1777, 200 houses 
■were burnt; 1793, the cathedral and other public buildings were de¬ 
stroyed, in all 3,000 houses. 

1776, Sept. 20. New York City; 500 buildings. 

1776, Jan. 1. Norfolk, Ya., by fire and cannon-balls of the British 
$1,500,000 loss. 

1778. New Orleans, La.; seven-eighths of it was destroyed. 

1778. Charleston, South Carolina. $500,000. 1796, another fire de¬ 

stroyed 300 houses. 

1782. Town of Kingston, in Jamaica, lost $1,000,000. 

1784. Rokitzan, in Bohemia, was totally destroyed by fire. Loss, 
$7,500,000. 

1787. Town of Ruppen, in Brandenburg, was nearly destroyed, 600 
houses being burnt. 


REMARKABLE CONFLAGRATIONS. g]^ 

1790. Carlscrona; 1087 houses, 2 churches, all the warehouses and 
the merchants’ dwellings, except two, totally destroyed. 

1794. Royal Palace at Copenhagen, Denmark, was burned with all its 
valuable contents, and loss of above 100 lives. $23,000,000. In 1795 a 
conflagration of forty-eight hours duration destroyed the arsenal, the ad¬ 
miralty, 50 streets, and 1563 houses. 

1795. A great fire at Montego Bay, in Jamaica, caused damage to the 
extent of $2,000,000. 

1795. The same year a conflagration destroyed one-fourth of the city 
„ of Copenhagen. 

1796. Smyrna; destroyed 4,000 shops, two large mosques, and all the 
magazines and provisions to the value of $50,000,000. 

1797. Scutari, near Constantinople, a town containing 3,000 houses, 
totally destroyed. 

1800. London, England. Loss $1,000,000. 

1801. Brody, in Galicia, destroyed 1,500 houses. 

1802. Liverpool, England. Loss $5,000,000. 

1803. Madras; destroyed 1,000 houses. 

1803. Posen, Hungary ; 283 houses lost. 

1805. Island St. Thomas; 900 warehouses. Loss $30,000,000. 

1811, May 31. Newburyport, Mass. ; 250 buildings. Loss $'1,250,000. 
y/ 1811, December”16. Richmond, Virginia; 70 lives lost. 

1814, August 23. Washington, D. C. General Ross, with an English 
army of six thousand, captured Washington, D. C., and ordered the de¬ 
struction of the Capitol, the President’s house, and the Executive build- 
ings. 

1815. Quebec, Canada. Loss $1,500,000. 

1818, Nov. 3. Boston, Mass.; Exchange Coffee house. Loss $250,000. 

1820, Jan. 10. Savannah, Geo.; 463 buildings destroyed in the short 
space of eight hours. Loss $8,000,000. 

1822, Jan. 24. Philadelphia, Pa.; orphan asylum, 23 lives lost. Loss 

$50,000. 

1824, July 7. Boston, Mass.; 20 buildings. Loss $600,000. 

1825, April 7. Boston, Mass; $2,000,000. 

1826, Constantinople, Turkey ; destroyed 6,000 houses. 

1827, Oct. 21. Mobile, Alabama; ioss $1,000,000. 

vy' 1828, May 26. New York City; Bowery Theatre, Loss $150,000. 

1833. Liverpool, England; loss $5,000,000. 

1836, Aug. 21. Salmon Falls, N. H.; factory, 10 lives lost. Loss 
$ 200 , 000 . 

1836, Feb. 18. New York City; Methodist Book Concern. Loss 
$300,000. 

1836, Sept. 22. New York City; Bowery Theatre, second time. Loss 

$ 100 , 000 . 

1836, Dec. 15. Washington, D. C.; patent office and post-office, over 
10,000 models destroyed. Loss $500,000. 


518 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


1838, Feb. 18. New York City; Bowery Theatre, third time. Loss 
SI 25,(tOO. 

1838, April 27. Charleston, S. C.; loss $2,000,000. 

1839, Sept. 6. New York City, 4G buildings. Loss $1,000,000. 

1839, Sept. 23. New York City; National Theatre and 3 churches. 

Loss $300,000. 

1839, Oct. 6. New York City; loss $1,000,000. 

1839, Oct. 4. Philadelphia, Pa.; 52 buildings. Loss $2,000,000. 

1839, Oct. 7. Mobile, Ala.; loss $2,000,000. 

1840, Jan. 30. New York City loss $1,000,000. 

1840, Feb. 11. New Orleans; City Exchange and other buildings. 
Loss $1,000,000. 

1841, Aug. 20. Onondaga, N. Y.; explosion of gunpowder, 26 lives 
lost. Loss $250,000. 

1841, May 21. New York City; National Theatre, second time. Loss 

$ 100 , 000 . 

1841. Smyrna, Egypt; 7 synagogues, 20 mosques, 10,000 houses. Loss 
of 40 lives. 

1841. London, England; 280,000 stand of arms and many valuable 
and interesting relics were destroyed. 

1842. Hamburg, Germany; 2,000 buildings. Loss $10,000,000. 

1842. Liverpool, England; loss $2,500,00-0. 

1843, April 20. Havre, France; loss $1,600,000. 

1845, April 10. Brooklyn, N. Y.; 200 buildings. Loss $1,000,000. 
1845, April 25. New York City; Bowery'Theatre, fourth time. Loss 
$90,000. 

1845, April 10. Pittsburg, Pa; 1,100 buildings. Loss $10,000,000. 

1845, May 20. Quebec, Canada; 1,500 buildings, many lives lost. 
Loss $4,000,000. 

184 6, June 14.. Quebec, Canada; 47 lives lost. Loss, $2,000,000. 

1846, July 13. Nantucket, Mass.; 300 buildings. Loss $1,000,000. 

1846, June 12. St. Johns, New Foundland; 2,000 houses. Loss 
$5,000,000. tYHi 

1847, Feb. 28. Carlsruhe, Germany; theatre, 200 lives lost. Loss 
$1,500,000. 

1848, Aug. 17. Albany, N. Y.; *439 buildings. Loss $5,000,000. 

1848, Sept. 9. Albany, N. Y.; 300 buildings. Loss $1,000,000. 

1848, Nov. 18. New York City; five fires same night. Loss $117,000. 

1848. Brooklyn, N. Y.; 300 buildings destroyed. 

1849, May 17. St. Louis, Mo.; 15 blocks of houses and 15 steamboats. 
Loss $7,000,000. 

1849, Dec. 23. Stockton, Cal., loss $250,000. 

1849, Dec. 24. San Francisco; loss $2,000,000. 

1850, July 9. Philadelphia, Pa.; 400 houses, 39 lives lost. Loss 
$ 1 , 000 , 000 . 

1850, Feb. 4. New York City ; explosion of a boiler in Hague street, 
loss of life 62. Loss $500,000. 



OTHER GREAT FIRES. 


519 


1850, Sept. 17. Boston, Mass.; 140 buildings. Loss $500,000. 

1850, Oct. 23. Constantinople, Turkey; ship of war, Neiri Skerkel 
of 120 guns, explosion of magazine, 900 officers and men killed. Loss’ 
$ 1 , 000 , 000 . 

1851, San Francisco, Cal., June 22, 500 buildings; loss, $3,000,000. 
1851, San Fancisco, Cal., June 14, 300 houses; loss, $4,000,000. 

1851, Stockton, Cal., May 14; loss, $1,500,000. 

1851, Concord, N. H., August 24; greater part of business portion of 
town destroyed. 

1851, Washington, D. C., December 24, Congressional library; loss, 

$ 1 , 000 , 000 . 

1852. Montreal, Canada, 2,000 buildings; loss, $5,000,000. 

1852, Sacramento, Cal., entire city destroyed, Nov. 2, 20,000 people 
houseless. 

1853, New York City, Nov. 10, Harpers' printing establishment; loss, 
$1,500,000. 

1853, Oswego, N. Y., June 5 ; loss, $1,500,000. 

1854, New York City, Jan. 7, Metropolitan Hall and Lafarge House. 
1854, Jersey City, N. J., Jan. 30, 30 factories and houses. 

1854. Gateshead, England,; loss of life, 50; loss, $5,000,000. 

1854, Troy, N. Y., Aug. 25, 100 houses. 

1854, New Orleans, La., Feb. 4. steamers Charles Belcher, Natchez, 
Cairo, and Sultana; 25 liv lost. Loss, $5,000,000. 

1854, New Orleans, L' ;g. 5; loss, $1,000,000. 

1854, Milwaukee, W ag. 25 ; large portion of it destroyed. 

1856, Syracuse, N ' x'lov. 8, 100 buildings; loss, $1,000,000. 

1856, Boston /, April 12, Gerrish Market; loss, $250,000. 

1856, Philaf i, Pa., May 1; loss, $1,000,000. 

1857, Neva jl., March 12, 200 buildings; loss, $1,300,000. 

1857 ' 

I 18c 
185t 

1859, 

1860, . 

$900,000. 

1860, 1 

1861. 

1862 ,i 

000 . 

1865. 

1865. 

1865, I 
1865. ' 

1865, 

1865, 


., Oct. 19, 14 lives lost; $750,000. 

City, Oct. 5, Crystal Palace destroyed. 

Vss., Feb. 6, steam bakery, etc.; loss, $300,000. 

L, Sept. 15; loss, $500,000. 

Mass, Jan. 10, Pemberton mills; 104 lives lost; loss, 

/lass., Feb. 18, Merchants Row; loss, $500,000. 

, England, fire lasted fifteen days; loss, $7,500,000. 

Y., May 10, 671 buildings were burned; loss, $3,000,- 

*' 

idt, Sweden, entirely destroyed, 
mtinopie, Turkey, 2,800 houses destroyed, 
elphia, Pa , Feb. 8, 22 lives lost; loss, $600,000. 
tte, S. C., Feb. 17, nearly the whole city destroyed, 
c, Canada, Feb. 17, 2,580 houses; loss, $2,500,000. 
England, Oct. 28, Beal’s wharf; loss, $1,250,000. 

31 


/ 



520 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


1866, London, England, Jan. 1, St. Catherine’s dock property; loss^ 
$2,500,000. 

1866, London, England, March 16, six warehouses; loss, $250,000. 

1867, New York City, Feb. 12; loss, $1,000,000. 

1867, St. Louis, Mo, March 30 ; loss, $1,000,000. 

1867, Darby, Pa., May 13; loss, $1,750,000. 

1867, Tariffville, Conn., June 10; loss, $1,500,000. 

1867, Fall River, Mass., Dec. 15; loss, $1,500,000. 

1868, Jefferson, Texas, March 1 ; loss, $1,200,000. 

1868, St. Louis, Mo., April 22; loss, $1,000,000. 

1868, Chicago, Ill., Jan. 28; loss, $3,000,000. 

1868, Charleston, S. C., April 27, fqur lives lost; 1,158 buildings de¬ 
stroyed ; loss, $3,000,000. 

1868, Marquette, Mich., June 11; loss, $1,250,000. 

1868, Albany, N. Y.; loss, $3,000,000. 

1868, Japrete, Cal., Aug.; loss, $1,000,000. 

1868, New York City, Aug. 14; loss, $1,000,000. 

1869, Philadelphia, Pa., Jan. 14; loss, $1,300,000. 

1869, Galveston, Texas, Dec. 3; loss, $1,500,000. 1 

1870, Galveston, Texas, Feb. 23; loss, v $l,000,000. 

1870, Chicago, Ill., Sept. 4; loss, $2,400,000. 

1871, Manestee, Mich., town destroyed Oct. 8 ; loss, $1,000,000. 

1872, Somerset, Pa., May.10; loss, $1,000/ ''0. 

The value of property destrix 1 by fire in the 
United States during the past six j is computed 
to have been over $400,000,000. 

Here indeed is food for the deej "^flection. 
Why should man suffer so fearfully h 
devastator ? How can he best protec^ ; and 

property from its ravages ? These are ;Stions 

which we shall endeavor to answer in i laining 
pages of this volume. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


CAUSES OF FIRE. 

Charles Dickens on Fire as a Servant and as a Master.—A Lecture on 
Carelessness.— Guarding Against the Outbreak.—Chimney and Stova 
Pipes.—Gas as an Assistant to Great Conflagrations, as in Chicago and 
Boston.—Necessity for Cut Offs in the Large Cities.—A Few Hints 
respecting the Use of Gas, and a Word to Gas Fitters and Plumbers.— 
The Foe at Our Firesides.—Entertaining Incendiaries Unawares.— 
The Incendiaries Pointed Out by Name.—A Warning to Mechanics, 
Manufacturers, Hotel Keepers, and Smokers. 


IRE, like the rest of the elements, when 
properly used and controlled, is an excel¬ 
lent servant and assistant to man, but when 
it obtains the mastery, it is, as we find 
from past and continued experience, a most 
terrible and ruthless tyrant, destructive 
alike to life and property, and perfectly indiscriminate 
in its ravages. 

The palace and the hovel, the prince and the 
peasant, the old and the young, are equally open to 
its destructive influence, and it becomes the bounden 
duty of all to do their best to prevent its doing 

(521) 




522 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


mischief, and confine its powers within those bounds 
in which it is found to act most beneficially for man. 

u Earth, air, and water,” says Charles Dickens, “ are 
necessary conditions of human life, but fire is the 
first great element of civilization. Fire, the first 
medium between the ‘ cooking animal ’ and the wild 
root and raw flesh devouring savage; fire, the best, 
because the most useful of servants, and, according 
to the old proverb, the worst, because the most 
tyrannical of masters; fire, the chief friend of man 
in creations of nature, and of industrial art, yet the 
most potent of all enemies in destruction; fire, the 
most brilliant and magnificent object on the earth, 
yet the most frightful and appalling when once it 
obtains dominion over man and man’s abodes. To 
subdue, and render docile to all needs, this devouring 
dragon, and bend his splendid crests, not only to 
“ boil the pot,” but to lick the dust before the feet 
of science, this is one of the greatest triumphs of 
mankind, the results of which are every year more 
and more stupendous. 

“ But amidst all our mastery we are never permitted 
to forget that this illustrious slave has neither aban¬ 
doned nor abated one jot of his original nature. Of 
this we are but too constantly reminded. Not to 
speak of lightning and volcanic eruptions, the weekly 
record of colliery and other mine explosions, of steam¬ 
boat explosions, the burning of ships, and the dismal 
transformation to a heap of ashes of valuable ware¬ 
houses, costly public edifices, or private houses, with 
‘ dreadful loss of life,’ need but the slightest mention 
to excite a thrill of alarm, or some passing thought 
of caution in the mind of every person holding the 
smallest stake in the social community.” 


CAUSES OF FIRE. 


523 

Carelessness and wilfulness are the two best allies 
by whose influence it so frequently exceeds its 
bounds, and against these it is impossible always to 
guard; consequently, from the earliest ages, we find 
provision made for restitution or punishment, accord¬ 
ing to the origin of the fire, and in the case of willful¬ 
ness it was punished by death. 

Fires can never be entirely prevented, the causes 
of their origin being so numerous and varied ; but 
this is no reason why every precaution should be 
neglected, or carelessness in using fire encouraged. 
After everything has been done that scientific and 
practical knowledge shows to be the means of dimin¬ 
ishing the liability and extent of fires, there are still 
those unconquerable difficulties of carelessness and 
willfulness to contend against, and it is difficult to 
devise a mode by which the ill effects of them may 
be neutralized. 

Carelessness, when reproved and shown the right 
way of proceeding, if persisted in becomes willfulness, 
and should, therefore, be severely punished. In fact 
in olden times this was the course adopted, and if it 
was considered needful then, experience shows us 
that it is far more needful now, especially since gas, 
lucifers, and other contrivances of modern times have 
enlarged the field on which they can act. Reading 
in bed is a fruitful source of fires, and with the know¬ 
ledge we have, and the instances of its pernicious 
effects continually occurring, it cannot be called other 
than willful; it certainly is not carelessness. The 
recklessness with which candles, matches, gas, the 
inflammable oils, and other easily-kindled materials 
are used and treated in every day life can scarcely 
be called carelessness now that the danger arising 


524 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


from their improper treatment is known; and too 
much caution cannot be taken in their use to prevent 
mischief. 

Were it always the case that the results of care¬ 
lessness and wilfulness affected the causes of it only, 
there would not be so much to fear; but as it is 
rarely the case that they stop here, it becomes all 
the more important to guard against them. 

Experience, unfortunately, teaches us that those 
cases where the greatest precaution should be taken 
to guard against the outbreak of fire, and means 
provided to check or extinguish it at its outbreak, 
are too often those in which the fewest are taken; 
and it must be said that when all that common sense 
teaches us should be done for this purpose, is done , 
such will be found to be the exception, not the 
rule. 

It is too much the custom to remark that "we 
have never yet had a fire,” and therefore neglect to 
provide against the chance of its occurring. Such a 
policy as this cannot be too severely condemned, for 
it is too often the case that the ill effects of the 
neglect alluded to, when a fire does occur, extend to 
others who are frequently ill able to bear its ruinous 
effects; but did they alone experience its ravages 
to whose neglect the fire is due, it would, as a rule, 
be admitted that they justly deserved it for neglect¬ 
ing to provide against the evil clay. The old proVerb 
about the pitcher and the well should be occasionally 
called to mind by all who have never had a fire. 

Chimneys were, and still are, a fruitful source of 
fires, both from being allowed to become so foul as 
to ignite, and also from being so improperly placed 
that the wood work of the building comes in 


CAUSES OF FIRE. 


525 


dangerous proximity to the interior of the flue. As 
a rule but little attention is paid to the joints of the 
brick-work inside the flue, to keep them close, and 
form a smooth, even interior, so as to prevent the 
lodgment of soot. The use of earthenware tubes or 
pipes, of the size of the flue required, built into the 
brick-work, instead of forming the flue of brick only, 
has been tried, with good results, and by glazing the 
interior but little soot is deposited, and the joints at 
each length can be made quite tight. This plan is 
deserving of extended adoption, and its advantages 
are too apparent to require lengthened comment. 
A chimney properly constructed, and with no joists, 
beams, or wood-work in its vicinity, may catch fire 
without giving much cause for alarm to the inhabit¬ 
ants of the house to which it belongs; but when it 
throws out the burning soot in large flakes, to be 
lodged promiscuously on everything in its neighbor¬ 
hood, it then becomes a serious matter, seeing that 
mischief may be caused where least expected, and 
thus this danger is added to the almost intolerable 
nuisance caused by the smell of the burning soot, 
and the two form anything but a pleasant state of 
affairs to all in its immediate vicinity. 

The use of wroughtriron pipes or tubes for convey¬ 
ing gas throughout a building, is much to be preferred 
to that of the soft metal in such general use. It has 
frequently happened that when a place has taken 
fire, the melting of these tubes has allowed the gas 
to escape, which, taking fire, has added in no small 
degree to the mischief. No doubt, if it could be 
always managed that when a place takes fire the 
gas could be shut off at a point not likely to be 
reached by the flames, and always easily got at, then 


526 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


% 

it would matter but little what material is employed 
for the purpose; but as it is a rare case when this 
can be done, it is desirable that every reasonable 
precaution should be used to decrease the damage 
caused by fire. It would be a very great and im¬ 
portant convenience in case of fire if the service 
pipes from the gas mains were all fitted with stop 
cocks, placed somewhere in the streets, so as to be 
easily accessible to the firemen, by means of which 
they could shut off the gas from the meter, and thus 
do away with the damage caused by the melting of 
the gas pipes, allowing the gas to escape when it 
happens that the fire has cut off access to the 
meter. 

The burning buildings in the late fearful conflagra¬ 
tion in Boston all contributed their whole volume of 
gas supplied to the building because there was no 
gas cut-off in the sidewalks. When there are no 
such cut-offs, the gas is quickly let loose, and the 
entire capacity of the pipes pour out their gas into 
the building, and thus make sure of, not only the 
destruction of the building, but generate heat 
enough to make quite certain the destruction of the 
next building, and so on, until an entire city is liable 
to be reduced to ashes. 

Says Mr. Benjamin Noyes, late Commissioner of 
Insurance, “ the fire in Chicago, to a certain extent, 
was a gas fire. The fire in Boston was, in fact, a gas 
fire—after the first beginning—which beginning, 
from the very nature of the case, must have been 
incendiary. 

% 

Once commenced, the fire proceeded, subject to no 
power whatever; indeed they almost gave up Boston 
as lost, and well they might, for block after block of 



CAUSES OF FIRE. 


527 


stately massive granite edifices were crumbling one 
after another, as though a superhuman power was 
placing the torch in every building and in every 
story. It is certain that omitting to put gas stop¬ 
cocks in sidewalks has proved to New York, Chicago, 
and Boston that gas pipes, which have no stopcocks 
in the sidewalks do not get shut off in cellars and 
basements at fires, therefore every building burned in 
. Boston having its flames of gas from supply pipes 
pouring into the fire was sure to burn, explode, or so 
heat the next building that its pipes would explode 
from heat, and set it all in a blaze, burst out its 
windows, and throw its flames across the street into 
the windows of opposite buildings. This is the way 
the fire in Boston progressed, and having been stopped 
for a few minutes revived itself again by heat, causing 
new explosions of gas, and came very near devouring 
the city. 

Now, what are the facts ? They are these in part 
at least:—First, gas stopcocks in the sidewalks have 
been discontinued, and the only shut-offs are in cellars, 
and either are out of reach or unknown to firemen 
and occupants. We see cities employing scores of 
steam fire engines and salaried men to master fires, 
and the expenses are enormous. They employ fire 
commissioners and fire marshals; but what do these 
things amount to when the city government and 
their array of officials live on, from day to day, in the 
face of astounding facts, without once looking or 
casting about for reasons why ? ” 

The general and extended employment of gas, 
both in shops and private houses of late years, has 
been said to have caused an increase in the number 
and extent of fires. To the want of care and judg- 


528 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


ment in fitting and placing the burners any fires from 
this cause must be attributed, and not to any occult 
character in the gas itself. How frequently does one 
see in some shops, in little back rooms, nay, even in 
offices and warerooms, the gas burners placed in 
dangerous proximity to woodwork ; sometimes right 
under a beam, or close up to the lath and plaster 
ceiling, or right against the wainscot ? In some of 
these cases a sheet of tinned iron may be seen nailed 
or otherwise attached against or to the inflammable 
material, with the intention of intercepting the heat 
from the burner, and so preventing its taking fire, it 
being forgotten that metal is a good conductor of 
heat! 

And yet, as respects safety, the claims of gas to 
public confidence, with proper precautions, are indis¬ 
putable. No sparks can by any possibility be diffused 
by a gas light. The odor so peculiar to coal gas is 
often urged as an objection to its use. Its presence 
in an unburnt state is thereby infallibly indicated, 
and thus fair warning is given that something is 
wrong. 

It should be remembered that gas only ignites 
when it is brought into contact with flame. When 
gas escapes, open the door and window of the apart¬ 
ment, search for the leak immediately —but not with 
a ligltied candle —and the escape may be easily ‘ 
detected, and as easily rectified. 

The custom of raking the fire out of the grate on 
to the hearth is a very fruitful cause of fires, and one 
that should be strictly forbidden. 

No doubt the imperfect manner in which hearths 
are ordinarily kept renders the liability to fire much 
greater, for it is a rare thing to see a hearth stone with- 


CAUSES OF FIIIE. 


529 


out crevices around it, or holes made by mice close by; 
these little gentry finding the neighborhood of the 
hearth a good place to get a living. These holes and 
crevices become depositories for dust, bits of thread, 
paper, and other inflammable materials, which gath¬ 
er by degrees, and form a nice little point from 
which a fire may start. At last some unlucky spark 
drops in, the ignited matter slowly smoulders into a 
larger body of fire, and at last breaks out when least 
expected, with a vigor and rapidity which too often 
insure a complete and speedy destruction of the build¬ 
ing and its contents, and not unfrequently endangers 
and destroys life itself. 

Then again, how frequently are stoves placed on a 
sheet of iron, which sheet of iron is placed on the bare 
wood floor, with no non-conducting material between 
them, to hinder the heat from passing into the wood 
work. If this course of procedure does not actually 
cause fires, it certainly increases the risk of them. It 
is well known that wood exposed for a considerable 
time to a constant heat undergoes a change which 
renders it peculiarly liable to take fire, under what 
may almost be termed unlikely circumstances; and it 
is, moreover, said it causes it to ignite by spontaneous 
combustion. 

A scrutiny into the character of the articles in con¬ 
stant use in our houses and stores will show that we 
are daily and nightly entertaining incendiaries una¬ 
wares. 

We do not allude merely to sawdustr-spittoons, 
wooden fire-shovels, cracked stones, matches, ash-bar¬ 
rels, rusty stove-pipes, and the like, but to such un¬ 
suspected things as summer cooking arrangements 
carelessly improvised in a back shed, rigged up for 


530 


. FIGHTING FIRE. 


temporary use, with the pipe stuck through the roof 
or a board, where the intensely dry weather will 
favor ignition : charcoal furnaces used for washing or 
ironing, and left standing on a kitchen floor, set be¬ 
hind the door near a frame siding, or in a pantry to 
work mischief: hatters' and tailors'furnaces for sum¬ 
mer heating of irons; frequently these are managed 
with great carelessness and made to spill fire about in 
the most alarming manner: drying kindlings ; it is 
often the custom with thrifty house-keepers to fill the 
stove oven with wood “ to dry for morning/’ a custom 
that has originated many a loss to insurers : office 
sweepings in the halls of public buildings; these in¬ 
vite stray sparks and cigar stumps, giving rise to fires 
now and then: sconces in halls; especially about 
taverns, stables, and manufactories, under stairs and 
in back passage ways; how many times we see a 
low ceiling charred and blackened by the heat and 
smoke of these ? a strong heat is evolved over the 
lights that hang even several feet below the ceiling, 
and is an item of real danger worth looking after: 
shelves in cupboards; you will hardly find one in a 
house that has been long occupied that does not bear 
on the underside the marks of narrow escape from lights 
that have been carelessly placed on the shelf below, 
from time to time; how many of these have caused 
burnings none can tell: rubbish baskets and boxes, 
containing waste papers, etc., are prepared to give a 
warm reception to a snap from the fire, or a cast-a- 
way match, or a flip of a cigar ash, and eventually to 
“ throw light ” upon the origin of mysterious fires : 
glue pots and tinners’ pots must be warmed in summer 
as well as in the winter, and the arrangements usually 
provided in shops for this purpose are of the. most 


CAUSES OF FIRE. 


531 


flimsy character, presenting an element of danger of 
no mean importance. It may be said with safety that 
all occasional or irregular fires used by mechanics are 
dangerous; the more so because they are occasional 
or irregular, and are consequently apt to be not well 
looked after. Coach-makers (and perhaps some others) 
are compelled to start up a fire now and then to 
“warp in panels;’’ tinners’ fire-pots are frequently 
placed in careless positions, and when not in use, 
emptied without due thought as to where the coal 
may fall. 

Numerous other illustrations of how incendiaries 
are harbored might be quoted, but these are enough 
to show that such sources of danger are worthy of 
close attention. 
















































































CHAPTER XXXIV. 


INCENDIARISM AND PYROMANIA. 

Twenty-five Thousand Fires and their Causes.—A Few Statistics.—The 
Three Principal Causes.—Accidents, Flues, and Fire-Bugs.—Incendi¬ 
arism : its Prevalence and Motives.—A Terrible Fact.—Sheep, Dogs, 
and Wolves.—Firemen as Incendiaries .—Pyromania as a Form of 
Insanity.—Symptoms and Characteristics of this Kind of Mania.— 
Instances where it has Manifested Itself, in Europe and this Country. 
The Salem Fire-Bug.—Rufus Choate Defending a Youthful Pyro- 
maniac.—Candles, Lamps, Gas, and Kerosene.—A List of Explosive 
and Combustible Articles.—Two Curious Causes of Fire. 


HE reports of the numerous fire depart¬ 
ments of our own and other countries 
furnish us with a vast multitude of causes 
of fires; nearly all those disasters could 
have been avoided with proper precau¬ 
tions. Even the lightning may, by the 
most improved conductors, be in most cases 

warded off. 

“The Insurance Record” of January 12, 1866, 
contains the following:—“From a careful examina- 
(532) 




INCENDIARISM AND PYROMANIA. 


533 


tion of reports of over twenty-five thousand fires in 
the United States and England, the following causes 
are ascertained : ”— 


No. Per Cent. 


Accidents and carelessness, 

- 

- 

3,171 



Chimneys, flues, stoves, pipes, furnaces, or other 




heating apparatus defective or over-heated, 

- 

3,169 

m 


Arson and incendiarism, including malicious mis- 




chief, and mischief of boys, 

- 

- 

3,140 

m 

nearly. 

Curtains and bedding, - 

- 

- 

3,182 

m 


Candles and lamps, - - - - 

- 

- 

1,609 

6 


Gaslights, leakage, explosions, &c., 

- 

- 

1,090 

A1 

^8 


Clothing on the person, 100; airing or drying, 689, 

719 

3 


Sparks from chimneys, forges, locomotives, 

&c., 

- 

706 

3 


Fire heat in manufacturing, 227; in ovens, 

143, 

- 

370 

H 

nearly. 

Shavings, - - 

- 

- 

431 

H 

nearly. 

Children playing with fire, gunpowder, matches, 

- 

363 

H 

nearly. 

Matches, ------ 



328 

H 


Pipes and cigars, - 

- 

- 

328 

H 


Spontaneous combustion, - - - 

- 

- 

321 

H 


Camphene, fluid, and coal oil, 

- 

- 

247 

i 

nearly. 

Fireworks, 156 ; gunpowder, 28, - 

- 

- 

184 

3 

4 


Intoxication, ----- 

- 

- 

179 

A 

8 


Ashes and cinders, - 

- 

- 

134 

£ 


Lightning, ------ 

- 

- 

96 

3 

8 


Friction of machinery, - 

- 

- 

66 

1 

4 


Steam boilers, ----- 

- 

- 

55 

1 

4 

nearly. 

Mysterious, ------ 

- 

- 

28 

£ 

nearly. 

Cats and rats (not including matches), 

- 

- 

27 

£ 

nearly. 

Causes not reported, unknown, &c., 

- 

- 

5,456 

22 



Of the above, numbering 25,399, several thousand 
are from newspaper and telegraph reports, where 
causes were mostly limited to accident, incendiary ? 
and unknown, swelling the list of unknown to undue 
proportions. The author has added the percentages 
of each cause. 

In examining the list of causes enumerated in the 
preceding chapter we pass by the first and most 
frequent cause under the head of “ accidents and 
carelessness” as at once too general, obvious, and 



534 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


vague to admit of examination. To the second 
cause—viz.: “ chimneys, flues, stove pipes, furnaces, 
or other heating apparatus, defective or overheated,” 
we would call the attention of the householder, for 
accidents from this cause may be almost always 
avoided by due precautions. Beware of placing 
wood work near any chimney or flue, let an outside 
jacket of metal be added, and avoid over-heating any 
apparatus the object of which is to convey heat. Be 
careful not to use too narrow a pipe or flue, as such 
are liable to become clogged, and to crack. Use a 
wire fire-screen in front of an open fire. 

The third cause in the list deserves a careful notice. 
Arson, incendiarism, and malicious mischief contribute 
largely to a frightful aggregate of loss and misery. 

Incendiarism is generally referable to these sources, 
—1st. Bevenge or malice; 2d. Desire for plunder; 
3d. To that singular though fortunately rather rare 
form of mania, styled by the medical fraternity, 
pyromania—i e ., that form of destructive mania which 
impels the one possessed by it to set fire to buildings. 
None of these causes can human foresight guard 
against so long as men are depraved and abandoned, 
or become insane. 

Even the special espionage of the detective and 
police forces, and the insurance patrol in our large 
cities, is wholly inadequate to protect the community 
against incendiarism. 

This is a terrible fact! 

The severest penalty—that of death—has been 
affixed in many states of our union to willful and 
malicious incendiarism, and justly too, for he who 
sets fire to houses is equal in moral turpitude to the 
vilest malefactor. 


INCENDIARISM AND PYROMANIA. 


535 


Incendiarism, the country over, says the Insurance 
Monitor , is by far the most frequent cause of confla¬ 
grations. Of a total of 752 fires throughout the 
United States, incendiarism caused over 200. Kero¬ 
sene and other oils caused 85. Defective chimneys 
caused 44. Stove and stove pipes caused 30. Spon¬ 
taneous combustion caused 27. Furnaces caused 17. 
Steam engines caused 16. Nearly one-half of those 
whose origin is reported, were either known or sus¬ 
pected to be designedly fired, and if we make a liberal 
allowance for the natural assumption of crime when 
other causes appear to be absent, we are still left with 
from one fourth to one-third due to this agency. It is 
interesting also to observe the class of buildings 
selected by the scoundrels. From one-half to three- 
fourths of the barns and stables are thus destroyed. 
Carpenter and carriage shops, wood-making establish¬ 
ments, whose contents and character offer peculiar 
attraction to the incendiary, suffer heavily. Bridges 
and hotels, especially where these are unoccupied, 
country stores, whether for the sake of plunder or 
mischief, and city stores, for the sake of plunder or 
recovery of insurance, stand out among the rest. 

Were not the fact proved by indubitable testimony 
it would seem incredible that the fireman, the ap¬ 
pointed guardian of the community, should ever be 
guilty of this crime. We might as well suppose the 
faithful shepherd dog suddenly transformed into a 
wolf and tearing the sheep it had been trained to pro¬ 
tect. But in a number of cases fires have been traced 
to firemen, who seemed to have been impelled to the 
crime through restlessness, rivalry, or to gratify some 
spite. Fortunately, the honor, fidelity, and heroism 
of that noble body cff men, the firemen, has rarely 
32 


536 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


been sullied by any such acts of turpitude on the part 
of its members. 

While hatred, revenge, and malice work out their 
fell purpose under the direction of a perverted will 
against some hated person or object, and while the 
desire for plunder prompts to the still more heinous 
crime of incendiarism -in many cases, there remains a 
still more dreadful, because more insidious cause of 
fires, which we will briefly notice, i. e. pyromania, or 
the morbid impulse to set fire to buildings. Dr. 
Shew, superintendent of the Middletown (Ct.) insane 
asylum, does not consider this as a special mental dis¬ 
order, but only one of the ways in which insanity, 
accompanied with destructive impulses, manifests 
itself. This opinion has also been expressed by other 
eminent authorities who have made a study of the 
pathology of the mind. 

This appears to us the most philosophical and cor¬ 
rect view to take of this morbid propensity, though 
other medical writers who have treated of it have in 
in some cases made it a distinct form of insanity. The 
difference between these views seems, however, to be 
verbal rather than in substance. 

A morbid propensity to incendiarism or pyromania, 
as it has been termed, where the person, though oth¬ 
erwise rational, says Day, “is borne on by an irresist¬ 
ible power to the commission of this crime, has 
received the attention of medical jurists in Europe, by 
most of whom it has been regarded as a distinct form 
of insanity, annulling responsibility for the acts to 
which it leads. Numerous cases have been related ? 
and their medico-legal relations amply discussed by 
Platner, Yogel, Marius, Henke, Gall, Marc, Friedrich, 
and others. In a few of thes^ cases the morbid pro- 


INCENDIARISM AND PYROMANIA. 


537 


pensity is excited by the ordinary causes of insanity; 
in a larger class it is excited by that constitutional 
disturbance which often accompanies the menstrual 
periods ; but in the larger class of all, it occurs at the 
age of puberty, and seems to be connected with 
retarded evolutions of the sexual organs. The case 
of Maria Franc, quoted by Gall from a German jour¬ 
nal, who was executed for house burning, may be 
referred to the first class. She was a peasant of little 
education, and in consequence of an unhappy marriage 
had abandoned herself to habits of intemperate drink¬ 
ing. In this state a fire occurred, in which she had 
no share. From the moment she witnessed this fearful 
sight, she felt a desire to fire houses, which, whenever 
she had drunk a few coppers worth of spirits, was 
converted into an irresistible impulse. She could give 
no other reason nor show any other motive for firing so 
many houses, than this impulse which drove her to it. 
Notwithstanding the fear, the terror, and the repent¬ 
ance, she felt in every instance, she went and did it 
afresh. In other respects her mind was sound. Within 
five years she fired twelve houses, and was arrested on 
the thirteenth attempt.” (Ray on Insanity, pp. 197, 
198.) The extent to which mischievous propensity 
exerts itself can only be determined by a very 
careful examination of local statistics. 

“There is another class of incendiary fires,” says a 
late number of the London Quarterly Review, “which 
* arise from a species of monomania in boys and girls. 
Not many years ago the men of the Fire Brigade were 
occupied for hours in putting out no less than half a 
dozen fires which broke out, one after another, 
in a house in West Smithfield; and if was at last 
discovered that they were occasioned by a youth who 


538 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


went about witli lucifer matches, and slyly ignited 
everything that would burn. He was caught in the 
act of firing a curtain in the very room in which a 
fireman was occupied in putting out a blaze. A still 
more extraordinary case took place in the year 1848 
at Torluck House in the Isle of Mull. On Sunday, the 
11th of November, the curtains of a bed were ignited, 
as it was supposed by lightning; a window blind fol¬ 
lowed! and immediately afterwards the curtains of 
five rooms broke out, one after another, into a flame; 
even the towels hanging up in the kitchen were burnt. 
The next day a bed took fire, and it being thought 
advisable to carry the bed linen into the coach house 
for safety, it caught fire three or four times during the 
process of removal. 

The furniture, books, and everything else of an in¬ 
flammable nature were, with much labor, taken from 
the mansion, and again some body-linen burst into 
flame on the way. Even after these precautions had 
been taken, and persons set to watch in every part of 
the house, the mysterious fires continued to haunt it 
until the 22d of February, 1849. It was suspected 
from the first that they were the act of an incendiary, 
and upon a rigid examination of the household before 
the fiscal general and the sheriff, the mischief was 
traced to the daughter of the housekeeper, a young 
girl on a visit to her mother. She had effected her 
purpose by concealing combustibles in different parts 
of the house.” 

(.London Quarterly Review , January, 1855, pp. 11.) 
“A young girl of a quiet inoffensive disposition, and 
whose character has been hitherto exemplary, made 
seven different attempts at incendiarism in a village 
near Cologne. When interrogated as to the motives 


INCENDIARISM AND PYROMANIA. 


539 


which had prompted her to act so wickedly, she burst 
into tears, confessing that at certain periods she felt 
her reason forsake her, and that then she was irresisti¬ 
bly impelled to the commission of a deed which, when 
done, she bitterly repented. She was acquitted by a 
jury of all criminal intentions.” 

A lad was, in 1844, convicted before one of the 
assizes courts in France, on six charges of arson. It 
was stated that his propensity for destruction by 
burning was so great that on one occasion he set fire 
to the clothes of some females who were asleep in a 
field, and who were only awakened by their agony. 
It is a curious fact that whenever he had set fire to a 
building he was the first to call for assistance, and ap¬ 
peared to be deeply affected at the misfortunes of the 
sufferers. He was condemned to twelve years’ impris¬ 
onment. Here was an undoubted case of pyromania. 

A number of cases of pyromania have occurred in 
our own country. That of Choate, the Salem “fire¬ 
bug” is still fresh in the memory of the public. He 
was a young man of respectable antecedents and 
family. It had been for some time suspected that he 
could explain the origin of some of the mysterious 
fires which had occurred in that city. They were at 
last traced to him, and it then became evident that he 
was laboring under this destructive mania. 

Rufus Choate, the celebrated lawyer and advocate, 
was on one occasion asked to defend a youthful incen¬ 
diary who had been detected in the act. u How many 
times has he set fire to buildings,” inquired the great 
lawyer. u Fourteen times,” was the reply. “ Then,” 
said Mr. Choate, “I’ll get him clear; if he had only 
set fire to a building a single time, he would have had 
to swing for it.” The frequency of the commission of 


540 


FIGHTING FIRE 


the offence without any ascertainable motive, estab¬ 
lished the morbid propensity, and the verdict of the 
jury justified the expectations of the advocate. The 
youth was held to be not guilty of the crime because 
he had, under the influence of pyromania, committed 
the acts complained of. 

Candles, lamps, gas, gaslights, and matches, when 
taken in combination with clothing, bedding, curtains, 
and other inflammable materials, are another most 
fruitful source of fires. 

Here again by proper precautions these accidents 
may be avoided. 

Matches may be ignited by rats gnawing them, or 
by concussion, or by being trod upon, or by being 
played with by children. 

Keep them in a metal or earthen metallic safe under 
lock and key. 

Kerosene and burning fluid, such as is ordinarily 
used, is too often as dangerous as a powder magazine. 
No lamp should be filled while lighted. No refined 
petroleum should be used that will deflagrate below 
110° Fahrenheit. Very simple methods of testing the 
inflammability of oil may be obtained at the wholesale 
oil stores, and every family should be provided 
with one. One of these consists of a tin cup, 
a wax taper, with a base of pasteboard, by means 
of which it will float upon the surface of the oil 
to be tested, and a small thermometrical tube to 
insert in the oil in order to ascertain the point at 
which the oil will deflagrate. In connection with 
the subject of explosive and inflammable articles we 
have carefully prepared a list of such stock, which, in 
case of fire would be dangerous, and the manner in 
which they could become so. As explosive from con- 


INCENDIARISM AND PYROMANIA. 


541 


tact with fire, alcohol, benzine, spirits of turpentine, pe¬ 
troleum, gunpowder, nitro-glycerine, dualin, naphtha 
gasolin, liquid safety gas, diamond oil, Danforth’s non¬ 
explosive fluid, varnishes of all kinds, collodion, Hoff¬ 
man’s anodyne, wood-naphtha, and all preparations of 
alcohol or whiskey, nitrate of soda, fireworks, ball 
cartridges, gun cartridges, fuse, percussion caps, ether, 
camphene, burning fluid, gun cotton. 

As being dangerous from suffocating fumes as well 
as combustible, sulphur of brimstone ; dangerous from 
fumes only, Spanish flies, iodine, cyanide of potassium, 
bleaching powder and ammonia; as caustic to the flesh 
when handled, all liquid acids, muriate of tin, saponi- 
fer, chromic acid, fluoric acid, phosphorus, lunar 
caustic. Some of these are not combustible and many 
articles not mentioned here are highly inflammable and 
combustible, such for example as turpentine, animal and 
vegetable oils, cotton, hay, straw, flax, hemp, husks, 
rushes, oakum, shavings, rags, or sea weed. 

We close this chapter with two curious cases which 
may serve to explain the mysterious origin of certain 
other fires. 

On Sunday, January 24, 1847, the dwelling occu¬ 
pied by Mr. David Farnsworth, in East Dennis, Mass., 
was set on fire and narrowly escaped destruction, in 
consequence of a glass globe, filled with water, and 
containing two small fishes, having been hung against 
a south window. The house had been shut up two or 
days, and Mr. F., on approaching, perceived smoke 
issuing from the chimney. Five minutes elapsed before 
he got in, as he had to return to his father-in-law’s for 
the key. On entering he found one of the window 
curtains was burnt, and that a covered easy chair, 
standing by the window, was in flames. After extin- 


542 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


guishing tlie fire, he ascertained the cause. The glass 
globe, filled with water, hanging where the rays of the 
sun fell directly upon it, formed a lens or burning glass, 
and a part of the curtain happening to be in the focus, 
was set on fire. 

Repeated experiments were afterwards made with 
the same globe. When filled with water and exposed 
to the sun, paper placed in the focus was instantly 
ignited; but when the water was turned out, the same 
effect was not produced. 

It is stated in one of the New England papers, that 
not long since a store in Ferry street, Hartford, was 
found to be densely filled with smoke, which proceeded 
from the outside boarding of the shop, where was 
placed a large fish box within the fish market adjoin¬ 
ing. From this place a lighted candle of some four 
inches in length had been taken by a rat, from a can¬ 
dlestick, and carried a distance of some six feet. The 
rat set fire in attempting to draw it between the clap¬ 
boards and the box. Had it not been for the persons 
present, the property would have been destroyed. 
Beware of such incendiaries. • , 


CHAPTER XXXV. 
SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION. 


What is Spontaneous Combustion ?—Explanation of the Term.—Cotton, 
Oil, See., Taking Fire of Their Own Accord.—Cases Where Such Fires 
have Occurred.— Ships and Warehouses Mysteriously Bursting into a 
Blaze.—A Black List of Dangerous Substances.—Spontaneous Com¬ 
bustion of the Living Human Body.—Will a Man Burn Up without 
being Set Fire to?—A Few Cases in Answer to this Question.—What 
Plenty of Gin will Produce in a Corpulant Man or Woman.—Story of 
the Fisherman’s Wife.—Opinion of Orfield, the Celebrated Physician. 
—What Became of an Old Woman in an Hour and a Half.—A Strange 
Phenomenon.—Boasted and Melted Alive.—The Fate of a Drunkard. 
—Terrible Warning to the Intemperate.—A Catalogue of Precautions. 

ITHOUT dwelling upon other causes, 
such as the careless exposure of com- 
bustible materials, the use of pipes 
and cigars, sparks from locomotives, 
chimneys, and furnaces, we hasten to 
notice another source of fire, which 
will much oftener than is commonly supposed explain 
the origin of fires that are set down as accidental, or 
cause unknown. The cause to which we allude is 
spontaneous combustion. 

It is now a well understood fact that the chemical 
action known as spontaneous combustion is a frequent 

(543) 





544 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


cause of fires, and great care should be taken in 
storing all materials likely to become the means of 
causing fire by this peculiarity. There can be no 
doubt that many fires, whose origin it has been 
difficult to ascertain have arisen from this cause, and 
it is known that greasy or oily cotton, sawdust, &c., 
if left long enough undisturbed, undergo a change, 
and finally ignite, setting fire to whatever inflammable 
material may be in their immediate neighborhood. 

Spontaneous combustion is the power of ignition 
inherent in animal and vegetable substances. The 
putrefaction of vegetables is known to occasion the 
development of so much heat as sometimes to cause 
their ignition, which the following instances will prove. 
It is well known, and has been satisfactorily proved, 
that ignition from chemical action will take place 
amongst such materials as hemp, jute, cotton, flax, 
&c., when they are stowed in a damp state, or left in 
a state of grease or oily dirt, or allowed to remain in 
a heap for a sufficient time. In the “ Elements of 
Chemistry,” it is said by Andrew Fyfe “ that the fixed 
or unctuous oils absorb oxygen; linseed oil, for in¬ 
stance, when spread on paper, lias been found to 
imbibe not less than twelve times its weight of it. 
Under certain circumstances the absorption goes on 
so rapidly that the heat generated is sufficient to 
cause combustion; when, for instance, tow or cloth 
is soaked in oil and heaped together, its temperature 
very soon rises, and it at last takes fire. Hence the 
necessity of being cautious in throwing aside tow or 
other matters which have been used for cleaning 
the oily parts of machinery, as instances have occurred 
of fires being occasioned in this way. 

Take a handful of cotton waste, soak it in the oil 


SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION. 545 

to be experimented upon, wring out the excess of 
oil, and then put it into a box along with some dry 
cotton. Then heat to 170 degrees Fahrenheit, and 
in 75 minutes the cotton saturated with boiled lin¬ 
seed oil will be found to be on fire. Boiled linseed 
oil and seal oil (specific gravity 0.928) are the most 
combustible. Next in order comes lard oil (specific 
gravity 9.16), which takes four hours to ignite. Raw 
linseed oil four to five hours. Rape oil and gallipoli 
olive oil will take a little longer than the last. It is 
interesting to note that all the oils just enumerated 
are ethers of glycerine.’ Castor oil, which is not 
ether of glycerine, takes two days to ignite sponta¬ 
neously. Sperm oil, too, does not ignite, and the 
petroleums actually stop the spontaneous combustion 
of the oils above-mentioned. 

Many instances of spontaneous combustion have 
occurred from this cause, and a series of experiments 
have been instituted to ascertain, as far as possible, 
the particulars under which they occurred. The 
results showed that if hemp, flax, linen cloth, &c., be 
steeped in linseed oil, if it lie in a heap, and be some¬ 
what pressed together and confined, its temperature 
rises, a smoke issues from it, and it at length takes 
fire. The same thing happens with mixtures of oil 
and fine charcoal, as lampblack wrapped up in linen, 
for in one experiment a mixture of this kind became 
warm in about sixteen hours, and emitted steam; in 
two hours more it emitted smoke, and immediately 
took fire. In another experiment the combustion 
happened in nine hours, but only succeeding where 
drying oils were used. 

Spontaneous ignition has been also observed to 
take j^lace in the cotton wipings or waste employed 


546 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


for wiping off tlie oil, &c., from the machinery; and 
there is little doubt but that many fires, for which no 
apparent cause could be assigned, have thus arisen. 

No pains should be spared to prevent mischief aris¬ 
ing from this cause, and all waste vegetable matters, 
of any and every description, should be removed to 
such places as w T ould prevent any danger ensuing if 
they should become spontaneously ignited. All tow, 
hemp, jute, cotton-waste, bass-matting, and other vege¬ 
table matter, ought always to be kept as free from 
grease or oil, and the influence of damp or moisture, 
as possible; and there is no reason to fear any dan¬ 
gerous result from their being on the premises, i£ 
knowing their peculiarities, reasonable precautions are 
taken to prevent their being exposed to those con¬ 
tingencies which produce the effects desired to be 
guarded against. 

In 1858 a quantity of asphalted felt, which was 
stored in a builder’s yard at Camberwell, England, be¬ 
came ignited spontaneously, but fortunately without 
doing much damage, and in a few weeks after it ignited 
again. 

There have been many well authenticated cases of 
serious fires arising from this cause; and it would seem 
that they are rather on the increase than otherwise. 
One great reason for this is the increasing tendency 
to store large masses of material together in a lump, 
instead of separating them as much as possible ; conse¬ 
quently, it is difficult, nay, almost impossible, to have 
that easy means of inspection from time to time 
throughout the whole mass, which is the only means 
of detecting and preventing the progress and outbreak 
of this silent and insidious destroyer. 

It is stated that cotton of itself is capable of ignit¬ 
ing, if packed too early and before it is thoroughly 


SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION. 


547 

dry. An English ship laden with cotton, from Bombay, 
was destroyed from this cause in the year 1834. The 
captain stated that the cotton had been brought down 
during the wet season, and no attempts had been made 
to dry it properly before shipping it, and that in this 
state it was closely packed between decks, as well as 
in every spare part of the vessel. In about a month 
after leaving port, the cotton was discovered to be on 
fire from the thick smoke that issued from the fore- 
hatchways, and in a short time the ship was entirely 
destroyed. 

In the stacking of hay, also, if the grass is not well 
dried, spontaneous combustion is very apt to follow. 
Charcoal, in the form of lamp-black, is likewise ex¬ 
posed to this singular condition. A few years since an 
English ship which sailed from Portsmouth was dis¬ 
covered to be on fire; when, on examination, it was 
found that a large cask of lamp-black was giving out 
volumes of smoke, although not actually in flames, it 
w T as with some difficulty, owing to the heat of the 
cask, that it could be got on deck, and thrown over¬ 
board; the admission of air, it was believed, would 
have caused it to have burst out into a flame. Sixty- 
one casks of lampblack which were on board, were 
then hoisted on deck, when several of them were dis¬ 
covered to be in a state of smothered combustion. 
The casks were surrounded by a number of barrels 
of tar and jars of oil, but it was not known that either 
of these inflammable substances had become mixed 
with the contents. As no light had been allowed in 
the hold since leaving England, it was decided to be a 
clear case of spontaneous combustion. 

Another substance which has been known to ignite 
spontaneously, is what is called in turpentine distil- 


548 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


leries chip-calce, which consists of the impurities in the 
form of chips of wood, leaves and leaf-stalks, which 
are obtained by heating the raw turpentine to about 
180 degrees, and straining it. In a fire which occurred 
in a turpentine distillery in Dublin, in 1835, the raw 
turpentine with its impurities was exposed at once to 
a temperature of about 250 degrees, and the boiling 
resin was then strained from the chips. The chip-cake 
from this process was laid in a heap outside the still- 
house, about three o’clock in the afternoon, and at 
midnight was observed to be in flames. Several ex¬ 
periments were tried with this substance, and sponta¬ 
neous combustion was the invariable result. The sub¬ 
stance used in theatres for the production of red or 
artificial light is extremely liable to ignite sponta¬ 
neously. It is a mixture of nitrate of strontian, sul¬ 
phur, sulphuret of antimony, chlorate of potash, and 
charcoal. It is believed that the lucifer matches now 
so extensively used, are liable to spontaneous combus¬ 
tion. They constantly ignite upon the slightest fric¬ 
tion. These and other facts which might be mentioned 
prove that great caution is necessary in pronouncing 
a person guilty of incendiarism, from circumstantial 
evidence solely. 

The question whether the living human body is 
subject to spontaneous combustion is still a mooted 
one among scientific men. The weight of evidence 
goes to prove that it is. The cases of this kind of 
combustion upon record are very numerous and gen¬ 
erally are those of corpulent females who were ad¬ 
dicted to spirit drinking. 

It is conceded by the best authorities that the hu¬ 
man body may gain increased combustible properties 
in consequence of excessive indulgence in alcoholic 


SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION. 


549 


liquors, so that it will take fire from a flame like that 
of a lighted candle and completely consume; and in 
some of the cases no contact with fire could be dis¬ 
covered, though in others there was an actual or ap¬ 
parent contact with fire. 

A fisherman’s wife of the name of Grace Pett, of 
the Parish of St. Clements, had been in the habit for 
several years of going down stairs every night after 
she was half undressed, to smoke a pipe. She did this 
on the evening of the 9th of April, 1774. Her 
daughter, who lay in the same bed with her, had fallen 
asleep, and did not miss her mother until she awoke 
early in the morning. Upon dressing herself, and go¬ 
ing down stairs, she found her mother’s body lying on 
the right side with her head against the grate, and 
extended over the hearth, with her legs on the deal 
floor, and appearing like a block of wood burning jvith 
a glowing fire without flame. Upon quenching the 
fire with two howls of water, the neighbors, whom the 
cries of the daughter had brought in, were almost 
stifled with the smell. The trunk of the unfortunate 
woman was nearly consumed, and appeared like a heap 
of charcoal covered with white ashes. The head, 
arms, legs, and thighs, were also much burned. There 
was no fire whatever in the grate, and the candle was 
burned out in the socket of the candlestick, which 
stood by her. The clothes of a child on one side of 
her, and a paper screen on the other, were untouched; 
and the deal floor w r as neither singed nor discolored. 
It was said that the woman had drank plentifully of 
gin over night, in welcoming a daughter who had re¬ 
cently returned from Gibraltar. 

Orfila testifies his belief in spontaneous human 
combustion by thus describing the phenomena which 


550 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


accompany it :' “ A light blue flame appears over the 
part which is about to be attacked; this flame is not 
readily extinguished by water, and, indeed, frequently 
the addition of this liquid only serves to increase its 
activity. Deep eschars now form in the part affected, 
accompanied by convulsions, delirium, vomiting and 
diarrhea, followed by a peculiar state of putrefaction 
and death. The process is said to advance with ex¬ 
treme rapidity, hut the body is never entirely con¬ 
sumed ; some parts are only half burnt, while others 
are completely incinerated, a carbonaceous, fetid, unc¬ 
tuous mass remaining. The hands and feet commonly 
escape destruction, while the trunk is usually entirely 
dissipated. The wooden and other combustible articles 
of furniture situated near the individual, are either 
uninjured, or hut imperfectly consumed; the clothes, 
however, covering the body, are commonly destroyed. 
The walls and furniture of the apartment are covered 
with a thick, greasy soot, and the air is impregnated 
with an offensive, empyreumatic odor.” This phenom¬ 
enon is stated to have been chiefly observed in corpu¬ 
lent females, advanced in life, and especially in those 
subjects who had been long addicted to the abuse of 
spirituous liquors. 

On the 16th of March, 1802, in one of the towns 
of Massachusetts, the body of an old woman was con¬ 
sumed in the short space of an hour and a half. Some 
of the family were absent and the others had retired 
to bed, leaving the old woman to take care of the 
house. Not long after, one of the grand-cliildren came 
home, and found the floor near the hearth to be on 
fire; a light was immediately brought, and means 
taken to extinguish the fire. There was now, for the 
first time, discovered on the floor and hearth, a quan- 


SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION. 


551 

tity of greasy soot and ashes, with the remains of a 
human body, and an extremely offensive smell in the 
room; all the clothes were consumed; whether any 
part of the body remained we are not informed. 

A case is referred to in Dunlap’s History of New York, 
and recorded in Hall’s New York Journal of Jan. 3d, 
1771, and Gaines’ Mercury of Jan. 7th. The most 
important particulars of the case are the following: 
The individual was a female, aged about 39, of intem¬ 
perate habits, but apparently robust and healthy, and 
living in an upper room by herself. On the evening 
of the 31st of Dec. she was seen to be intoxicated in 
her room, by one of her acquaintance, who left her at 
a late hour of the night. In the morning, on calling, 
the same person could not gain admittance, and on 
waiting till 11 o’clock, she contrived to get in at a 
back window", when she discovered the remains of the 
body near the middle of the floor in which a hole was 
burnt entirely through, about four feet in diameter, 
the bones lying beneath. The flesh was entirely con¬ 
sumed from off the bones of the whole body, except 
a small portion of the skull, a part of one shoulder, 
the lower part of one leg and foot, which was burnt 
off in its smallest part, as even as if it had been cut 
off, and lay by itself on the floor. The stocking was 
burnt off as far as the leg and no farther. The bones, 
some of which were black, and others white, were so 
thoroughly burnt, as to crumble to dust between the 
fingers. The abdominal viscera remained unconsumed. 
One of the sleepers which lay under the shoulders 
was burnt almost through ; part of the head lay on the 
planks at the edge of the hole, and near it was a can¬ 
dlestick, with part of a candle in it, thrown down, but 
it did not appear to have touched any part of the 
33 


552 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


body, or to have set anything on fire. The tallow was 
melted off the wick, which remained nnscorched by 
the fire, as also ss screen which was standing near, and 
almost touched the hole. The leg of a rush-bottomed 
chair and about half of the bottom were burnt so far 
as they were within the compass of the hole on the 
floor and no further. The ceiling of the room, which 
was white-washed plaster, was as black as if covered 
with lamp-black, as also part of the walls and windows; 
and the heat had been so great as to extract the tur¬ 
pentine from the boards and the wainscot. After all 
this, the fire went entirely out, so that when the body 
was found, not a spark remained. 

In conclusion, we may remark that certain precau¬ 
tions, observed and acted on, will tend to prevent Acci¬ 
dental Fires. 

Fust :— Matches should be kept in metal boxes and 
where children, rats, and mice cannot meddle with 
them. If a match or a piece of paper is lighted, see 
that it is properly extinguished before leaving it, as 
such will sometimes burst out on fire after having been, 
as supposed, trampled out. 

Second :— Candles should never be left burning at a 
bed-side after retiring. This is a most fruitful cause 
of loss of life and property. 

Third :— Kerosene Lamps should be trimmed and 
filled by daylight; but never, day or night, with a 
light near by; and when burning keep them out of 
the draught of open doors and windows. 

Fourth: —Gas, if escaping so that the smell is very 
apparent, should be turned off at the meter, first open¬ 
ing doors and windows. Never take a light into a room 
full of escaped gas! Gas burners should not be in 
dangerous proximity to woodwork, curtains, or other 
combustible material. 


SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION. 


553 


Fifth: —Smoke Pipes of Heaters, Stoves, etc., should 
never be close by woodwork. Wood exposed for a 
considerable time to constant heat undergoes a chem¬ 
ical change which renders it peculiarly liable to take 
fire. 

Sixth: —Cotton Waste, linen and cotton rags, etc., 
when in a state of grease or oily dirt, should never be 
allowed to remain in a heap, or in a damp place. 
Under such circumstances, ignition from chemical ac¬ 
tion will most likely result. 

Seventh :—Abstain from alcoholic stimulants and 
you will escape spontaneous combustion. 



AMERICAN FIRE ENGINE, 1785. 


CHAPTER XXXYI. 
jOLD METHODS FOR EXTINGUISHING FIRE. 

IIow the Ancients Fought Fire.—Alum as a Shield.—The Water-bomb; 
who Invented it and How it Worked.—Other Devices in the Last Cen¬ 
tury.—History of the Fire Engine in Ancient Times.—Its Use in Egypt 
and Old Rome.—Syphons; what were they?—Forcing Pumps, Valves, 
and Levers in Former Ages.—Water Bags, Pipes, and Syringes.—De¬ 
vices Employed at the Great Fire of London, 1666.—Rise of the Fire 
Engine and Hose in Germany.—Fire Engines in the Seventeenth 
Century.—Invention of the Van Der Heides.—Description of the Im¬ 
provements made in Holland. 



'ROM the earliest ages water has been looked 
^ on as the great means provided by nature to 
act as the antagonist to fire, and its use for 
extinguishing it is as ancient. Throwing 
water from buckets and other vessels on 
burning buildings, to extinguishing the fire, 
is most ancient, but improvements in the method of 

. (554) 
































FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


555 


applying it and thus by rendering it more efficient are 
the only beneficial increase its powers of overcoming 

fire have received at the hands of either ancients or 

* • 

moderns. 

The employment of material which would render 
whatever it was applied to incombustible, dates from 
a very remote period. Archelaus, a general of Mith- 
ridates, during one of the wars with the Romans, 
caused the wooden towers used in battle to be washed 
over with a solution of alum; by which means all the 
attempts of his opponents to set the wood on fire 
were rendered abortive. The use of alum to render 
clothing, wood-work, etc., fire-proof, is usually esteemed 
a modern invention, and frequently quoted as an ex¬ 
ample of modern scientific and chemical progress. 

Outside of the fire-engine and the use of ordinary 
water, the record of inventions, possibly excepting 
those of very recent date, is exceedingly discouraging. 
The water-bomb was among the most persistent, and 
held its ground, with various modifications, for more 
than a hundred years, its secret being at one time 
purchased by a European prince for a large sum of 
money. Its essential feature was a considerable 
volume of matter or medicated solution, inclosed in a 
receptacle that could be exploded by gunpowder and 
a fuse which were included with it; and the operation 
consisted in introducing the bomb into the burning 
building, where the explosion scattered the liquid. 

Zachary Greyl was the first person who put this 
plan into execution with any tolerable degree of suc¬ 
cess. About the year 1700, he contrived certain 
engines, easily manageable, which he proved before 
some persons of the first rank to be of sufficient 
efficacy, and offered to discover the secret by which 


556 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


they were contrived, for a large premium given either 
from the crown, or raised by a subscription of private 
persons. But this scheme meeting with no better 
success than things of this nature usually do, he died 
without making public the discovery. 

Two years after this the people who had his papers 
found the method; and it was shown before the King 
of Poland, and a great concourse of nobility, at Dres¬ 
den, and the secret purchased at a very considerable 
price. After this the same person carried the inven¬ 
tion to Paris and many other places, and practiced it 
everywhere with success. The secret was this: A 
wooden vessel was provided, holding a very consider¬ 
able quantity of water; in the center of this there 
was fixed a case made of iron-plates, and filled with 
gunpowder; from this vessel, to the head of the 
larger vessel containing the water, there proceeded a 
tube, or pipe, which might convey the fire very 
readily through the water to the gunpowder con¬ 
tained in the inner vessel. This tube was filled with 
a preparation easily taking fire and quickly burning 
away; and the manner -of using the engine was to 
convey it into the room or building where the fire 
was, with the powder in the tube lighted. The con¬ 
sequence of this was, that the powder in the inner 
case soon took fire, and with a - great explosion, burst 
the vessel to pieces and dispersed the water every 
way; thus was the fire put out in an instant, though 
the room was flaming before in all parts at once. 
The advantage of this invention was, that at a small 
expense, and with the help of a few people, a fire in 
its beginning might be extinguished; but the thing 
was not so general as it was at first expected that it 
would prove; for though of certain efficacy in a 


FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


557 

chamber or close building where the fire had but 
newly begun; yet when the mischief had increased so 
far that the house was fallen in. or the top open, the 
machine had no effect. 

In the year 1723, Mr. Godfrey, an English chemist, 
invented a machine which he called a "Water Bomb,” 
on the plan of Greyl, and impregnated it with an 
" antiphlogistic ” substance. He considerered first, 
that the unchangeable size of Greyl’s engine was a 
very great objection, and on this plan contrived a 
medicated liquor, which was such an enemy to fire, 
that a very small quantity would extinguish it as quick 
as a much larger quantity of common water; and this 
liquor had the farther advantage, that it might be kept 
ever so long without corrupting, and by that means 
the vessels containing it would remain always fit for 
use; whereas in Greyl’s method they must have been 
rotted by the corrupting and fermenting of the 
water, after a few years. 

The author of this invention tried it twice pub¬ 
licly in London and both times with all the 
success that could be wished. But the structure 
of the vessel was so much the same with that of 
Greyl’s, that Godfrey cannot be allowed any farther 
merit as an inventor than that of contriving the 
medicated liquor instead of common water. The ma¬ 
chine was a wooden vessel, made very strong and 
firm, so that the liquor, when once put in, could not 
leak out anywhere. In the center of this was an ob¬ 
long cylindric vessel, which was filled with gun¬ 
powder ; a tube was brought from this to the head of 
the barrel; and this being filled with combustible 
matter, and the inner case with powder, and both 
made of place-iron, that no water might get in, the 


558 FIGHTING FIRE. 

vessel was filled with the medicated or antiphlogistic 
liquor. The top of the tube was then covered and 
the thing set by for use. 

When there was occasion for it, it was necessary to 
uncover the tube, and setting fire to the matter in it, 
it was conveyed to the vessel containing the powder, 
and the whole machine being thrown into the place 
on fire, was torn to pieces by the explosion and the 
extinguishing liquor scattered every way about, on 
which the fire was quenched in an instant. 

The contriver of these things proposed the making 
of three kinds of them, the one containing five gallons 
of the liquor; this was the largest size, and contrived 
for the largest rooms and most urgent necessities. 
The second kind contained three gallons; and the 
smallest, which was meant for a closet, or other little 
room, contained only two gallons. Those of the 
smaller kind also had sometimes a peculiar difference 
in their structure, the powder vessel being placed not 
in the center but at the bottom; the intent of this 
was to fit them for chimneys, when on fire, as by this 
means the liquor, not being wanted to be scattered on 
all sides, was carried mostly upwards. These were 
- fixed on the end of a long pole, and by this means 
thrust to a proper height up the chimney; and the 
tube that communicated the fire was placed down¬ 
wards. 

The manner of using the machines for rooms on 
fire, was thus explained by the inventor : “ The per¬ 

son who has the care of them is to throw them as 
nearly as may be into the middle of the room, and 
then to retire to a little distance; as soon as he hears 
the explosion, he may safely enter the room, and with 
a cloth, or anything of that kind, put out any remain- 


FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


559 


ing sparks of fire that there may be in particular 
places. If the room be so large, that one of the ma¬ 
chines cannot disperse the liquor to every part of it, 
two are to be used, one being laid at each end; and 
if several rooms are on fire at once, as many of the 
machines are to be used, one being thrown into 
each room. If a whole house is on fire, the lower 
rooms are first to be taken care of, and after these 
the upper, as they ascend.” 

Mr. Godfrey had scarce better success than his pre¬ 
decessor, Greyl; for while he was making his public 
experiments, one Povey, collecting some of the frag¬ 
ments of his broken vessels, found out the ingredients 
used in the medicated liquor, and made and sold the 
things in the same place wherq he had proved his 
right to them. It is probable that the medicated 
liquor was no other than common water, with a large 
quantity of sal ammoniac, that salt having this virtue 
of extinguishing fire in a remarkable degree. But it is 
to be greatly wondered at that while all the world were 
convinced by experiments of the use of the machine, 
the author made but little advantage of it, and it is 
now disused. 

In 1792, numerous public experiments were made at 
Stockholm by a M. Van Aken, using a composition of 
sulphate of iron, sulphate of alumina, red oxide of 
iron, and clay, in which he is stated, with the assist¬ 
ance of two men and forty measures of this prepara¬ 
tion, to have subdued an artificial fire that would 
have required twenty men and 1,500 of the same 
measure of simple water. 

We will not pause to enumerate the various other 
devices, adopted in former times for extinguishing 
fire, such as the mode of application of pure water or 


560 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


of different chemical solutions, tanks at the top of 
buildings, of throwing water by means of the force 
of condensed air in close vessels, etc., etc. 

Most of these devices were rather curious expedi¬ 
ents than useful and practical inventions. We come 
next to the earlier application of the mechanical 
forces for casting water, out of which has been 
gradually evolved the fire engine of modern times. 

It has been generally supposed that the history of 
the fire engine only goes back a couple of centuries, 
and begins with the hand squirts introduced shortly 
after 1600. This is an error; the history of its exist¬ 
ence goes further back, and begins before the date 
of Christ. 

To the ancients who lived some 2,000 years ago 
we are indebted for the more important portions of 
the modern manual fire engine, in fact for the manual 
engine itself; and at a period antecedent to this 
there can be hardly a doubt that fire-engines of some 
kind were in use in most of the celebrated cities of 
antiquity, such as ^Nineveh, Tyre, Babylon, and others. 
It is difficult to believe that the engineers and 
mechanicians of those cities, whose talents and skill 
are so well known, would have omitted to provide 
some means of counteracting or extinguishing fires, 
the fearful ravages of which were well known, and 
would be of such great injury to their magnificent 
cities. 

The fire-engine or pump used in extinguishing 
fires, and by means of which a stream of water could 
be thrown amongst the flames through the power of 
several men, is of very ancient origin, for we find 
that its invention is attributed, and on sufficient 
evidence, to an engineer of Alexandria, Ctesibius by 


FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


561 



name, who flourished in the second century before 
the birth of Christ, during the time of Ptolemy, Phila- 
delphus, and Euergetes. 

Passing by for the present the numerous evidences 
that machines for extinguishing fires by projecting 
water from a distance were known in very early 
times we come at once to the first clear evidence of 
the existence of our present engine in all its essential 
features in the second century before Christ. The 
present fire-engine, with, its double-forcing pump, its 
valves, its lever arms, and its air chamber in use in 
old Egypt two thousand years ago. 

The following cut is a copy of Heron’s illustration 
of the Egyptian fire-engine before the time of 
Christ:— 


EGYPTIAN FIRE ENGINE 200 B.C. 

A careful inspection of the figure will show that it 
was precisely like our present engine in its principles. 
The two cylinders are of brass, resting on a wooden 






















































































562 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


1 


base. The Spiritalia, an ancient manuscript, written 
by Heron of Alexandria, describes them as having a 
very smooth bore, with pistons accurately fitted. 
The double forcing pump for securing a constant 
stream just at present, is clear, and we know from 
other sources that the forcing pump was not unknown 
to the ancients. The most important question that 
arises is whether it had an air chamber, for this is 
supposed to be exclusively a modern device, so far 
as machines for extinguishing fires are concerned. 
It will be noticed in the cut that the portion of the 
discharging pipe below the square reservoir descends 
nearly to the bottom of another, which encloses it, 
and that a space is left between them, this space 
must, from its nature, have been an air chamber; 
there is no other conceivable motive for this peculiar 
construction, and its effect would be unavoidable. 

In Commandine’s translation of the “ Spiritalia ” of 
Heron of Alexandria, published in 1583, drawings 
are shown of spherical vessels containing water, with 
the discharge tubes descending perpendicularly into 
them. Small pumps or syringes are adapted to these 
vessels, so that air may be forced in to cause the 
ejection of the water. Pliny, in his 19th book, speaks 
of water being forced up “ by pumps and such like 
going with the strength of wind enclosed .” 

It seems that besides engines for throwing water 
on fires, they used sponges or mops attached to the 
ends of long poles, and grapples and other instru¬ 
ments, by means of which they could go from one 
wall to another. On rebuilding the city of Rome, 
every citizen was required to keep in his house “a 
machine for extinguishing fire,” though what the 
machines were we are not informed • but as in those 


FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


563 


days there were buckets, mops, hooks, and syringes, 
it seems reasonable to suppose that they were the 
latter, for we find that the dimensions of these squirts 
when employed for extinguishing fires were generally 
regulated by those of the building in which they were 
to be used. 

The implements for extinguishing fires most fre¬ 
quently alluded to by ancient writers is one called 
a sypho. There has been no little dispute as to its 
construction. About the fourth century of the 
Christian era it was considered one of the most 
important agents for putting out conflagrations. 
The sypho was an instrument of some kind for pro¬ 
jecting water on the flames, but whether a syringe, 
as has been generally supposed, a forcing pump, or a 
complete engine, like that of Heron, cannot be deter¬ 
mined. Inasmuch as they appear to have been port¬ 
able, it is probable that they were very much like 
the syphon of our own day: that is, a curved tube, 
which being filled with water, and one end inserted 
in a vessel of water, the flow from the other end 
produces a vacuum, which draws up the water from 
the vessel, and discharges it at the end that is open. 
The syphons are now used for emptying the contents 
of one barrel into another. 

In speaking of fire machines, Pliny used the term 
“ sijiho” which, as we have said, by some is taken for 
pipes or water tubes; but in a passage from a frag¬ 
ment of a work of Apollodorus, the architect to the 
Emperor Trojan, it is stated that when a fire occurs 
in the upper part of a house, and the “ sipho ” is not 
at hand, to take leather bags and fill them with 
water, connect long pipes to them, and then by com¬ 
pressing the bags the water will be thrown to certain 


564 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


f 


heights, therefore it is fair to say from this description 
that whatever the 66 sipho ” may have been, it was 
evidently a fire-engine, for if such a rude contrivance 
as that described was applicable in its stead, it must 
be tolerably evident that the " sipho ” was an efficient 
machine for the purpose. 

Hesychius, the grammarian of Alexandria, and 
Isidorus of Miletus, who flourished at the commence¬ 
ment of the seventh century, show that the word 
‘sipho” was applied to a fire engine, and the term 
was understood as meaning such in the fourth 
century. It is also stated by the latter that such 
engines were used in the East for the purpose of 
extinguishing fires, and they were common in Con¬ 
stantinople for this purpose, where they were known 
by the term "sipho” 

The Latin term employed by him in describing 
the action of the “ sipho ” is too plain to be mistaken; 
it is jaculandus—throwing or casting the water—the 
same term as is applied to the hurling of darts or * 
javelins, and casting of stones, &c., by the ballista 
or catapult, by the ancient writers. 

Fire engines, their use and manufacture, seem to 
have been altogether forgotten in the “ dark ages,” 
and "squirts” or portable syringes appear to have 
been the only contrivances in use for throwing water 
on fires, except buckets. The gross superstition and 
thorough ignorance which held all Europe in its 
grasp, not only prevented the establishment of manu¬ 
factories for better instruments, but actually dis¬ 
couraged their use; and instead, the priests and 
others proposed trusting to the use of relics and the 
tolling of consecrated bells during fires as far more 
efficient than any attempts at extinguishing them 
by water! 


FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


565 


It would have been strange if in so well organized 
an empire as that of Rome, there should be no means 
for protecting the community against the dangers of 
fire. This was provided for by companies of firemen 
provided with buckets, syphons, and leather bags, 
filled with *water, and fastened to long pipes, so that 
by pressing the bags the water might be forced 
through the pipes. The lower stories were by law 
compelled to be of brick or stone, and without party 
w r alls. 

Each citizen was required to keep a portable syphon 
for projecting water in the house, and men especially 
educated as firemen were incorporated, who, it seems, 
like similar companies in our own times, occasioned 
no little trouble by their turbulence. 

Coming down from this period to the middle ages, 
w r e find that forcing pumps were introduced as fire 
engines in Germany as early as 1848, and during the 
same century hand squirts or syringes were intro¬ 
duced in England and generally throughout Europe. 

As originally constructed, they resembled a child’s 
toy rather than anything intended for the serious 
w r ork of combatting a conflagration. These syringes 
were made of brass, were about three feet long, an 
inch and a half in diameter, and held from two to 
four quarts. Three men were required to work them, 
one on either side holding the instrument while the 
third worked the piston. 

The syringe was filled after each discharge by 
inverting the nozzle in a basin of water and withdraw¬ 
ing the piston. With these playthings the inhabitants 
endeavored to arrest the great fire of London in 
1666. For a century longer syringes continued to be 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


566 

used, and the efforts of mechanics were chiefly di¬ 
rected to attempts to improve them. 

An illustration is herewith given of the syringe 
engine of the sixteenth century: 



SYRINGE OF SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 


In an English book, published in 1590, an account 
is given of this squirt, with a recommendation for its 
introduction. The writer, says, “ this kind of a squirt 
may be made to hold a hogshead of water, or if you 
will, a greater quantity thereof, and may be placed 
on his frame, that with ease and small strength, it 
shall be mounted imbased or turned to any one side, 
right against any fixed mark, and made to squirt out 
the water upon the fire that is to be quenched.” We 
give in the cut below an illustration of the German 
fire engine, used in 1615. The following is an expla¬ 
nation of this machine : This engine is much practiced 
in Germany, and it hath been seen what great and 
ready help it may bring; for although the fire be 
forty feet high, the said engine shall than cast its 
water by help of four or five men, lifting up and put¬ 
ting down a long handle in form of a lever, where the 
handle of the pump is fastened; the said pump is 
easily understood. There are two suckers (or valves 1 








FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 



GERMAN FIRE ENGINE, 1615. 

pumps nil the manner of working them. The first 
account we have of an air-chamber is from France. 
A machine was described by a writer in the Journal 
des Savons m 1675, which consisted of a square box 
for holding the water, containing a single forcing 
pump in the center. Two arms were attached to the 
piston rod, and so arranged as to be worked by one 
man each, standing at the opposite ends of the 
34 


567 

within it, one below to open when the handle is lifted 
up, and to shut when it is put down, and another to 
open to let out the water; and at the end of said 
engine there is a man who holds the copper pipe, 
turning it to and again, to the place where the fire 
shall be. 

Up to the middle of the seventeenth century fire 
engines had neither air-chambers nor flexible hose. 
The only improvements introduced were in the 


























































































































508 FIGHTING FIRE. 

machine. The stream thus forced out by the pump 
was conveyed by a pipe into a pot or air chamber 
standing at the side of the box, and from thence the 
stream was directed through a pipe having what was 
known as a goose-neck joint. The goose-neck was a 
short pipe, bent at a right angle, with a ball and 
socket joint at each end, connecting the main pipe 
with the jet. By means of these two joints the hori¬ 
zontal and perpendicular directions of the stream 
were regulated. 

The principle of the air-chamber, however, though 
known as it appears at this time, was not utilized 
until many years later. For in 1699 a special officer 
was charged with building and keeping in repair the 
seventeen portable pumps, as they were called, be¬ 
longing to the French King. 

Meanwhile another great step in the improvement 
of the fire engine had been made, this time in Hol¬ 
land. This improvement was the flexible leathern or 
sail-cloth hose instead of the inflexible pipe with its 
goose-neck joint. The honor of this invention is 
ascribed to two inspectors of fire apparatus in the city 
of Amsterdam, named Van der Heide. The hose was 
made by them in fifty feet lengths, with brass screws 
fitted to the ends so that any number of lengths 
could be connected together. This discovery was the 
beginning of a new era in the history of the fire 
engine. As may be inferred from what we have said 
already, the application of these machines, prior to 
the invention of hose, was exceedingly limited. It 
was necessary to locate them in close proximity to 
the fire, so that they were frequently overtaken by 
the conflagration and burned. The water was re¬ 
quired to be brought in buckets from a distance to 


FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


569 


supply them, and even then they were only able to 
combat the flames from the outside of the house. 
The only advantage secured was in discharging the 
water on those parts which could not be reached by 
buckets. 

Hose or pipes for conveying water were however 
not entirely unknown to the ancients. At least the 
architect Apollodorus says, that to convey water to 
high places exposed to fiery darts, the gut of an ox, 
having a bag filled with water affixed to it, might be 
employed; for on compressing the bag the water 
would be forced up through the gut to the place 
of its destination. This was a conveyer of the simplest 
kind. 

The conveyer or bringer of modern time was 
invented also aboutthe same time by these two 
Dutchmen, the Yan der Heides. This name is 
given at present to a box which has on the one 
side a sucking-pump, and on the other a forcing- 
pump. The former serves to raise the water from a 
stream, well, or other reservoir, by means of a stiff 
leathern pipe, having at the extremity a metal 
strainer pierced with holes to prevent the admission 
of dirt, and which is kept suspended above the mud 
by a round piece of cork. The forcing-pump drives 
the water thus drawn up through a leathern pipe into 
the engine, and renders the laborious conveyance of 
water by buckets unnecessary. 

At first, indeed, this machine was exceedingly sim¬ 
ple. It consisted only of a leathern pipe screwed to 
the engine, the end of which widened into a bag sup¬ 
ported near the reservoir, and kept open by means of 
a frame, while the laborers poured water into it from 
buckets. A pump, however, to answer this purpose 


570 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


was soon constructed by the Yan der Heides, who 
named it a snake-pump. By its means they were 
able to convey the water from the distance of a 
thousand feet; but I can find no account of the 
manner in which it was made. Froin the figure I am 
inclined to think that they used only one cylinder 
with a lever. Sometimes also they placed a portable 
pump in the v^ater, which was thus drawn into a 
leathern hose connected with it, and conveyed to the 
engine. Every pipe or hose for conveying water in 
this manner they called a wasserschlange , water-snake, 
and this was not made of leather, like the hose fur¬ 
nished with a fire pipe, but of sail-cloth. They 
announced, however, that it required a particular 
preparation, which consisted in making it water-tight 
by means of a proper cement. The pipe also, through 
v T hich the water is drawn up, must be stiffened and 
distended by means of metal rings, otherwise the 
external air, on the first stroke of the pump, w r ould 
compress the pipe, so that it could admit no water. 



HOSE. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE MODERN FIRE ENGINE AND THE HOSE 

SYSTEM. 

Fire Engines of the Eighteenth Century in Germany and England.—De¬ 
scription of the Strasburg Engine.—Richard Newsham, of London, and 
his Invention.—Means used previously to Extinguish Fires in London. 
—Full Description of the New sham Engine.—Fire Engines in the 
Cities of America.—A Fire in Old New York.—IIow the Knicker¬ 
bockers dealt with Conflagrations.—Tools and Appliances connected 
with the Manual Engine.—Invention of Ilose.—Different Kinds of 

O 

Ilose and the Various Contrivances which belong to it.—Hoods, 
Jackets, Strainers, Branch Pipes, Reels, and Drying Racks.—Manual 
Engines and their Inadequacy to the Purpose of Putting Out Fires.—- 
The Story of one of Hunneman’s Tubs. 



E now come to the fire engines of the 
eighteenth century, during which period 
the most marked improvement was made 
in the construction of fire engines, 
and their introduction and use became 
general. 

The following is an engraving of the fire engine of 

( 571 ) 












FIGHTING FIRE. 


572 

Strasburg in 1739. “The cistern is mounted on 
wheels, and a section is represented as taken out of 
the side for the sake of showing the internal structure. 
This cistern, as will be seen in the engraving, was 
divided into two parts, separated from each other by 
a perforated partition which acted as a strainer. The 
water was poured into the rear and from thence 
flowed into the front apartment in which the pumps 



FIRE ENGINE OF STRASBURG—1739. 

were placed. These pumps, two in number, were 
each worked by a separate lever, independently of the 
other, and of course at considerable disadvantage, 
since it would be impossible to secure alternate action, 
and this disadvantage would be increased by the ab¬ 
sence of any air-chamber. The stream from the 
pumps was forced into a single receiver, and thence 
through the pipe. This defect, however, was reme¬ 
died in another machine, described by the same writer 
belonging to Ypres.” 








































































































































FIRE ENGINES. 


573 


The improvements made on the fire engine during 
the eighteenth century are largely due to the invent¬ 
ive genius of 'Englishmen, among whom Richard 
Newsham should be mentioned first, whose engines re¬ 
placed all others, both in this country and Great 
Britain. Although hand squirts continued to figure 
among the instruments used by the English in extin¬ 
guishing fire, during the seventeenth century, engines 
were not unknown there. 

In 1667, the year following the great fire, the city 
of London was divided into four fire districts, each of 
which was ordered to be provided with suitable fire 
apparatus. This apparatus consisted of ladders, 
buckets, pickax, sledges, brazen hand-squirts, and 
small engines with buckets. Thirty years before, 
these engines were alluded to by a writer in speaking 
of instruments for raising water. He says : u Having 
sufficiently spoken concerning mils and engins for 
mounting water for meer conveyance, thence we may 
derive divers squirts and petty engins to be drawn 
upon wheeles from place to place, for to quench tier 
among buildings; the use whereof hath been 
found very commodious and profitable in cities and 
great townes.” Most of these engines, as explained 
by the author, were single cylinder machines, of 
various patterns, and one resembled a bellows in its 
construction and mode of operation. 

About the close of the seventeenth century the 
engines of Richard Newsham were patented, and thirty 
years later their superior merit was generally acknowl¬ 
edged, and the reputation of the inventor was estab¬ 
lished. Newsham, however, was not without 
competitors ; nor does there seem to have been any 
essential principles involved in the construction of his 


574 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


engine, which was not familiar to machinists. The 
efficiency secured by his improved mechanism carried 
off the palm. 



LONDON FIRE ENGINE, 17G5. 

In the above engraving we have an illustration of a 
fire engine which is described by the English authors 
as bein 2 : familiar in use in the time of Newsham. Mr. 
Newsham advertised his engines in the following 
terms: 

u Richard Newsham, of Cloth Fair, London, engi¬ 
neer, makes the most substantial and convenient 
engines for quenching fires, which carries continual 
streams with great force. He hath play’d several of 
them before his majesty and the nobility at St. James’s, 
with so general an approbation that the largest was at 
the same time ordered for the use of that royal palace. 

The largest engine will go through a passage about 
three foot wide, in complete working order, without 
taking off or putting on anything; and may be worked 
with ten men in the said passage. One man can quickly 





































































































FIRE ENGINES. 


575 


and with ease move the largest size about in the com¬ 
pass it stands in and is to be played without rocking, 
upon any uneven ground, with hands and feet or feet 
only, which cannot be paralleled by any other sort 
whatsoever. There is conveniency for twenty men 
to apply their full strength, and yet reserve both ends 
of the cistern clear from incumbrance, that others, at 
the same time may be pouring in water which drains 
through large copper strainers. The staves that are 
fixed through leavers, along the sides of the engine, 
for the men to work by, though very light, as alter¬ 
nate motions with quick returns require; yet will not 
spring and lose time the least ; but the staves of 
such engines as are wrought at the ends of the cistern, 
will spring or break if they be of such length as is 
necessary for a large engine when considerable power 
is apply’d; and cannot be fixed fast, because they 
must at all times be taken out before the engine can 
go through a passage. The playing two streams at 
once, do neither issue a greater quantity of water, nor, 
is it new, or so useful, there having been of the like 
sort at the steel-yard, and other places, thirty or forty 
years, and the water being divided, the distance and 
force are accordingly lessen’d thereby. 

Those who pretend to make the forcers work in the 
barrels, with a perpendicular stroke without rack, 
wheels, chains, crank, pully, or the like, by any con¬ 
trived leavers, or circular motion whatsoever, with less 
friction than if guided and worked by wheel and 
chains (which of all methods is the best), do only dis¬ 
cover their ignorance; they may as reasonably agree 
that a great weight can be dragg’d upon a sledge with 
as little strength as if drawn upon wheels. 

As to the treddles on which men work with their feet, 


576 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


there is no method so powerful, with the like velocity 
or quickness, and more natural and safe for the men. 
Great attempts have been made to exceed, but none 
yet could equal this sort; the fifth size of which hath 
played above the grasshopper upon the Royal Ex¬ 
change, which is upwards of fifty-jive yards high, and 
this in the presence of many thousand spectators. 

Those with suction feed themselves with water from 
a canal, pond, well, etc., or out of their own cisterns, 
by the turn of a cock, without interrupting the stream. 
They are far less liable to disorder, much more 
durable in all their parts, than any extant, and play off 
large quantities of water to a great distance, either 
from the engine or a leather pipe or pipes of any 
length required (the screws all fitting each other). 
This the cumbersome, squirting engines, which take 
up four times more room, cannot perform, neither do 
they throw one-fourth part of their water on the fire at 
the like distances,-but lose it by the way, nor can they 
use leather pipe with them to much advantage, 
whatever necessity there may be for it. The five 
large sizes go upon wheels, well box’d with brass, fit¬ 
ted to strong iron axles, and the other is to be carried 
like a chair.” 

Without stopping to give any fuller description of 
the Newsham engine, we hasten to speak of the fire 
engines in the American colonies. 

u When New Amsterdam, as it was called, or New 
York, was founded by the Dutch in 1614, fire engines, 
as we have seen, had not yet come into use in 
Europe, and when it passed from their hands in 1664, 
the engines themselves were rude and imperfect, 
and their use was still exceptional. The Dutch 
records of the ordinances of New York, between 




SCENE AT A FIRE IN NEW YORK IN 1730. 





















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































FIRE ENGINES. 579 

these dates, reflect the condition of Holland in regard 
to means for the extinguishment and prevention of 
fires. For the first thirty years after its settlement, 
the inhabitants contented themselves with the enact¬ 
ment of laws to prevent the houses, which were 
generally built of wood, and thatched with reeds, 
from taking fire. Prominent among the dangerous 
features of the first buildings erected on this island, 
were their wooden chimneys. These, unless fre¬ 
quently cleaned, were in constant danger of catching 
fire, so fire wardens were appointed to inspect the 
chimneys and fine the delinquents. As the settle¬ 
ment increased, however, and the wooden chimneys 
continued to burn, notwithstanding the vigilance of 
the officials, the director general and their excellen¬ 
cies, the councillors, finally decreed in January, 1648, 
that no more wooden or platted chimneys should be 
erected, and that those already standing should be 
suffered to remain during the good pleasure of the 
fire wardens. The fine of three guilders imposed on 
foul chimneys, was to be devoted to procuring and 
maintaining fire ladders , hooks , and buckets , which 
were to be obtained from Holland on the first conven¬ 
ient opportunity. This is the first ordinance with 
which we are acquainted, appertaining to fire appa¬ 
ratus in America. 

Similar ordinances continued to be passed from 
time to time until 1730 when New-sham had succeeded 
in establishing the reputation of his machine in Eng¬ 
land. In that year fire engines were first ordered to 
be provided for the city, and by the beginning of 
1732 “ two complete fire engines with suction and all 
the materials thereunto belonging,” were imported 
from London. Other American cities also imported 


580 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


these or similar fire engines, and before the revolution 
many cities and towns were provided with the best 
appliances then known for subduing fire. 

Every manual or steam fire engine requires to be 
provided with certain tools and appliances for use at 
fires, which should each have their allotted place, and 
be constantly kept in it, so as to be easily and readily 
found when wanted. In this case the old saying of 
u place for everything and everything in its place,” 
applies with peculiar force, and it is the imperative 
duty of every one touching them to replace them in¬ 
stantly when done with. 

tc The equipments generally provided for and car¬ 
ried with each manual engine, as used by the London 
fire engine establishment and laid down in their gen¬ 
eral regulations, consists of two lengths of scaling lad¬ 
ders each six and a half feet long, capable of being 
readily and quickly joined together so as to form a 
ladder of any required length ; a canvas sheet, with 
ten or twelve handles of’ rope round the edge of it; 
two pieces of two and a half inch rope, one ten fath¬ 
oms and the other fourteen in length; six lengths of 
hose, each length being forty feet; two branch pipes, 
one two and a half and the other four to six feet long; 
one spare nozzle for the branch pipes; two lengths of 
suction pipes, each about six feet long; one flat rose, 
a stand cock, and a goose neck; two balls of strips 
of sheepskin, two balls of small cord; two dog tails, 
one dam board, a boot hook, a mattock, a shovel, a 
saw, a screw wrench, a portable cistern, a hatchet or 
pole axe, an iron crowbar, a hand pump, with hose 
instruments for opening the fire plugs, and keys for 
turning the stop cocks of the water mains. 

The employment of flexible hose strong enough to 


SCENE AT A FIRE IN NEW YORK IN 1733. 
























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































FIRE ENGINES. 


583 


bear a good pressure of water, lias, in no small degree 
increased the facility and effect with which fires can 
be combated by means of water forced through it. 

The invention of the leather hose, both for suction 
and delivery, is due, as we have already remarked, to 
the two Dutchmen, the Yan der Heides. After its in¬ 
troduction into Holland, the use of this flexible hose 
became common in other parts of the continent, but 
it did not find its way into England until nearly a 
hundred years later. The great difficulty with the 
leather hose was to make it water tight. The seams 
were sewn like the leg of a boot, and the pressure 
caused them to open and leak badly, so that much of 
the water was lost where the hose was carried too far. 
Notwithstanding this defect, leather was found to be 
the best material for the purpose on account of its 
strength and durability; substitutes, such as canvas 
and seamless woven hose, invariably giving way after 
a short usage. 

Some sorts of hose were made of canvas covered 
with a cement or paint to make them water tight; an¬ 
other sort was the seamless hose woven in a tubular 
form by machines such as has been introduced at a 
very recent period as a new invention; but leather 
still continued to be used with such satisfactory results 
as to prove the truth of the old proverb, that ‘ there is 
nothing like leather.’ 

In the year 1808, Messrs. Sellers & Pennock of 
Philadelphia furnished a most valuable contribution to 
the means in use for extinguishing fire by the inven¬ 
tion of riveted hose. Prior to this the usefulness of * 
hose at fires had been seriously impaired by its de¬ 
fective character. 

The substitution of copper rivets for fastening the 


584 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


seams removed the last obstacle to its employment, 
and leather hose has since played a conspicuous part 
among the instruments for extinguishing fires in 
America. 

Riveted hose, by greatly increasing the effective¬ 
ness of engines at a distance from the fire, produced 
a radical change in the method of combatting confla¬ 
grations. The suction hose formerly used were made 
of short metallic cylinders, placed end to end and 
covered with canvas or leather; these, however, were 
not sufficiently elastic, and were easily crushed ; stout 
spiral wire was afterwards substituted and found to 
answer the purpose. 

The objections to leather hose are, the liability to 
defects in the leather, its tendency to crack, and the 
constant care necessary to keep it flexible, by the ap¬ 
plication of grease or oil. 

This set the busv brains of the inventors at work, 
and soon other materials were adopted, among which, 
besides canvas and linen, India rubber soon estab¬ 
lished its superiority, both, when used alone, and as a 
lining for canvas or linen. 

India rubber hose was first brought out in England, 
in the year 1827. It was submitted to very severe 
tests, and stood them so well that it was soon adopted 
by most of the insurance companies. One test was 
plugging up the nozzle of a length of India rubber 
and a length of leather hose attached to a powerful 
engine, well worked. The leather hose blew out or 
burst in the solid part of the leather; and the India 
rubber was uninjured, and broke down the engine. 
The smoothness and evenness of the interior of this 
hose cause it to be preferred by many makers when 
trying engines for range and height. 


EIRE ENGINES. 535 

Hose of this material only requires to be dried after 
use and before being rolled up. 

At fires it will be found necessary to keep hose of 
this kind away from the heated ruins; and care 
should be taken, in laying out, to avoid those parts 
where damage may arise to it from this cause. 



ADJUSTIBLE SPRAY NOZZLE. 

There is no obstacle a fireman encounters in the 
discharge of his perilous duties, more formidable than 
the suffocating smoke that assails him, endangering 
his life and rendering his efforts ineffectual when 
most needed. With the nozzle shown in the cut a 
pipe-holder can approach and enter a building, driving 
back the heat and smoke with the spray (B) and 
can then operate to great advantage in cases where if 
would be impossible to enter or remain a single mo. 
ment with the common nozzle. By using this nozzle 



























































































































586 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


fire may be extinguished in many cases in less than 
one-fourth the time and with one-fourth the water. 

The pipeman can change a solid stream to a full 
spray, or to both a spray and solid stream, the solid 
stream being entirely surrounded by the spray as 
shown in the cut, using the spray to drive back the 
smoke and heat, and the solid stream to extinguish 
the fire. It is operated by simply turning the end of 
the nozzle which admits the water to flow through the 
openings in the end. 

The damage to property by water caused by the 
bursting of hose at fires, especially when the hose is 



HOSE JACKET. 

laid through a building stocked with goods, is fre¬ 
quently very great, and the delay occasioned by the 
replacing of a perfect length for that which becomes 
ruptured, is oftentimes the loss of a building. A hose 
jacket or repairer is now made, the engraving show¬ 
ing its operation without further explanation. 





































































FIRE ENGINES. 


587 


The strainer is another important addition to 
pumps of all kinds as well as to the fire engine, 
where the water has not been previously filtered. 

The Hose Coupling appears also to owe its origin 
to the Vander Heides, who are said to have attached 
brass screws to the ends of their fifty-feet lengths of 
delivery hose, so that any number u could be quickly 
connected together as occasion might require.” 

Branch Pipes and Nozzles must be nearly 
coeval in their origin with the use of the 
forcing pump. The necessity of a narrow ap¬ 
erture for projecting the liquids, of course 
required the use of a nozzle, which was prob¬ 
ably at first, a permanent fixture along with 
the pipe. 

Breaching is another contrivance concern¬ 
ing whose introduction we are left in uncer¬ 
tainty. The object of the breaching is to 
attach two separate hose to one delivery, and 
thus secure two streams on different parts of 
the fire. 

The Hose Reel, like the riveted hose, is 
peculiarly an American invention, and was 
introduced early in the present century. At 
first it was simply attached to the engines, for¬ 
ward of the air-chamber; afterwards, as the 
value of hose became manifest, a separate 
carriage, known as the hose cart, mounted on 
two wheels, was added to the various city fire 
departments in addition to the reels carried by each 
engine. The advantage of a separate carriage was 
that a great quantity of hose could be transported by 
a few men, which would be of the utmost service 
when water had to be brought from a greater dis- 
35 






























588 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


tance than the limited -supply of hose carried by the 
engines would allow. 

The hose system, which has special claims to be 
called an American institution, completely revolution¬ 
ized the method of extinguishing fires. 



It is now more than twenty years since the hand 
engine may be said to have reached it's acme for all 








































































































































FIRE ENGINES. 


589 


substantial purposes, though slight improvements 
continue still to be made in its construction and man¬ 
agement. Within the past half a century great 
things have been accomplished by the hand engine. 
A first-class machine of this kind, under the manage¬ 
ment of a large and trained body of firemen, often 
worked wonders. The length and height of streams 
of water, thrown horizontally and perpendicularly, 
through hundreds of feet of hose, have been carefully 
preserved among the records and traditions of the 
engine house. But nerve and muscle are not made 
of steel. This was continually and painfully brought 
home to the consciousness of the fireman. 

With all the pride which he took in his machine 
and its appliances, with all his alnbition to be first 
upon the ground, and to throw the highest and the 
biggest stream the longest time, there may be 
discerned in the language and stories of the engine 
house a secret conviction of his own powerlessness and 
the inadequacy of his machine in the presence of a 
great conflagration. The amusing anecdotes told in 
the fireman’s dialect, and which for years have been 
repeated among the “ b’hoys ” in their idle hours at 
the engine house reveal sometimes even a scarcely 
concealed contempt for the fire extinguishing efficacy 
of his machine. One style of the hand engine re¬ 
ceived the name of “ Hunneman’s tubs.” 

Some years ago, the worthy citizens of the town of 

F-, in The state of Maine, voted in their united 

wisdom to purchase a fire engine. Thereupon an 
order was transmitted to Boston for one of Hunne¬ 
man’s crack tubs, and a company was formed to take 
charge of it upon its reception. But the most difficult 
matter in relation to the affair was to select a proper 



590 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


foreman. However, after mature deliberation, their 
choice was fixed upon ’Squire W-, a worthy ex¬ 

representative and trader of the town, who had seen 
the murchines in operation on one or two occasions 
during a transient visit to Boston. In due course of 
time the chairman of the board of selectmen received 
a bill of lading of the engine, and a few days after 
rumor announced to the company that the sloop Susan 
Jane was coming up the river, with the tub on board. 

The b’hoys dropped their hoes, scythes, and pitch- 
forks, and started for the “landing.” As soon as the 
sloop touched the wharf, they took possession of the 
tub, and snaked her on to the wharf. After various 
conjectures upon the mode of operation of the 
“critter,” they attached the suction hose in order to 
“see her squirt.” 

At this moment, the chairman of the board of select¬ 
men approached, and in a tone of authority told the 
boys that that machine cost the town too much money 
to be played with, and “ they’d better onship that 
leather pipe before the foreman came, or he would 
raise Ned with ’em.” 

By this time the worthy foreman (who, upon the 
first intimation of the arrival of the engine, had gone 
home and donned his ruffled shirt and presentative 
suit,) arrived to assume the active duties of his office. 

“Fall in, boys,” he exclaimed; “man the rope, 
two and two. I’m foreman, and I’ll go ahead. Now 
then—forward march !” 

And off they started, up the hill, down “ Ragged 
Lane,” over the bridge, up to “Sleepy Hollow,” 
around “ Dogtown Corner,” across “Ten Shares,” 
and through every highway and by-way of the town, 
until their weary legs and the setting sun admonished 
them it was time to tie up. 



AMERICAN HAND ENGINE, 1857 


FIBE ENGINES 


591 



































































































592 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


That was a great day for the town and the foreman, 
and for an hour after tea he sat and expatiated to his 
wife upon the responsibilities of his station. At length 
he retired, and was soon locked in the arms of Mor¬ 
pheus, while his worthy spouse lay wide awake, won¬ 
dering when her valiant lord would have an opportu¬ 
nity to distinguish himself. 

Her reflections, however, were soon disturbed by a 
bright light glaring into her chamber window. Could 
it be possible? There was—there must be a fire 
somewhere ! 

“Husband, husband,” said she, u there’s a fire!” 

“Walk her up!” shouted the new foreman, half 
waking. 

“There’s a fire, I tell you,” said she. 

“ Poh! let it burn!” 

“ There is a fire, and I’m going to get up and see 
where it is.” 

t 

“Pshaw ! you fool!—you will only get your death 
of cold.” 

“But I tell you there is a fire scooting up like 
blazes! ” 

“ They’re only burning brush up at Sleepy Hollow.” 

“ No—it’s t’other way.” 

“Well, I s’pose ’tis Capt. True’s brick kiln.” 

“ Why, good Lord, it is Deacon Butman’s house up 
to Four Corners ! It’s all of a light blaze!” 

“Well, get into bed, you fool, and let it burn. 
Thank the Lord our new engine is nowhere near it .” 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


STEAM FIRE ENGINES. 

Steam versus Muscle.—A Fight between the Fire Fiend and the Steam 
Champion.—Invention of Steam Fire Engines.—Captain John Erics¬ 
son.—Description of the Machine.—History of the Invention.— 
Triumph of Steam over Muscle.—A. & B. Latta of Cincinnati Demon¬ 
strate the Practicability of the Machine.—The Test.—A Brilliant 
Success.—Christening; the Engine.—The Steam King Enthroned.— 
General Adoption of the Machines.—Qualifications of a Good Steamer. 


HE age of steam lias succeeded to the 
age of muscle. The hand engine has 
been banished to the smaller towns and 
villages, and the steamer has taken its 
place in the cities. There when a fire 
takes place it may be seen like a blind 
giant clad in brazen armor and breathing flame and 
smoke, panting but tireless. Hour after hour with 
steady, ceaseless oscillation, the piston sucks the 
water from the gushing hydrant, and projects it. upon 
the flames. It is a square stand-up fight between the 
fire fiend on the one side, and the steam champion 
upon the other. Sometimes the former, putting on 
all his strength, dashes over the arena victoriously 
for a season, but his compact and patient antagonist 

( 593 ) 







FIRST STEAM FIRE ENGINE EVER BUILT—LONDON, 1829 . 

































































































































































































CAPT. JOHN ERICSSON, INVENTOR OF THE STEAM FIRE ENGINE. 




















STEAM EIRE-ENGINES. 


597 


keeps steadily at work and in the end triumphs over 
the fire champion, though too often not until he has 
worked his malicious will upon all that he has en¬ 
countered in his course. 

The manufacture of steam fire engines, as a regular 
branch of industry, is of very recent origin; and, 
although to England belongs the honor of having 
made the first steam fire engine, as far back as 1829, 
when it was constructed by Messrs. Braithwaite & 
Ericsson, in London, by whom four more were made at 
a later period, all being eminently successful; yet, so 
strong were prejudices and other matters, that from 
1832 to 1852 no more were made there, nor was pub¬ 
lic attention directed to the matter. 

The alarming frequency and extent of conflagra¬ 
tions in the city of New York during the winter of 
1838-40, caused the attention of the citizens generally, 
and of the different insurance companies in particular, 
to be turned to the subject of adopting more efficient 
measures for extinguishing fires than any the city 
possessed. The utmost efforts of the fire department 
were thought to be insufficient to perform the duties 
required of them, and general alarm pervaded the 
community. At this juncture, the Mechanics’ Insti¬ 
tute very opportunely directed its efforts to the pro¬ 
motion of the public good by offering the gold medal 
of the institute, the highest honor within its gift, as a 
reward for the best method of applying steam to the 
fire-engine. Several plans were submitted, and after 
a thorough and patient investigation of their several 
merits, by the Committee of the Institute on Arts and 
Sciences, the token of excellence was awarded to Cap¬ 
tain John Ericsson. Of this engine, the first planned 
in this country, the Committee, in their private report, 


598 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


say: * * * * * “The points of excellence, as thus 
narrowed down, were found to belong, in a superior 
degree, to an engine weighing less than 2J tons, that 
with the lowest estimated speed has a power of 108 
men, and will throw 3,000 pounds of water per min¬ 
ute, to a height of 105 feet, through a nozzle of Ih 
inch diameter.” 

We copy the following history of American Steam 
Fire Engines from the Insurance Monitor: 

“The engine thus designed by Capt. Ericsson was 
never constructed, but another, to which we shall pre¬ 
sently allude, had meantime been built, which, being 
confused with Ericsson’s plan, secured for him the 
credit of having built the first steamer; and the state¬ 
ment has been generally accepted since. On compar¬ 
ing Mr. Ericsson’s plan with that of the first English 
steamer, it will be found to have been modeled in a 
great measure after that machine. The force pump 
was double acting, of gun metal, placed directly under 
the air vessel, the latter was globular in form and of 
copper. Between the two the delivery pipes were 
placed, one on either side, as shown in the engraving, 
and below the pump again was the suction pipe. The 
rear was occupied by the boiler, constructed on the 
principle of the ordinary locomotive boiler, containing 
twenty-seven tubes. Forward of all was placed a 
blowing apparatus, consisting of a square wooden box 
with paneled sides, in which a wooden piston worked, 
attached to the sides by leather. The air was forced 
by this piston into a receiver above, provided with a 
movable top, from whence it was conveyed to the fur¬ 
nace. Ten minutes was allotted to get up steam suffi¬ 
cient to work the engine. 

In the same year Mr. P. B. Hodge, an English en- 


STEAM FIRE-ENGINES. 


599 

gineer who had established his works in New York, 
induced the insurance companies of this city to give 
him an .order for a steam fire-engine, on condition 
that the engine should be capable of forcing 6,000 
pounds of water per minute to a height of 120 feet. 
Its construction was very simple. The boiler was 
similar to that of a locomotive, except that the fur¬ 
nace end was curved out to increase the area of the 
fire-grate without adding to its weight. The main 
running-wheels were used as fly-wheels when the en¬ 
gine was at work, the wheels being then secured to 
the axle, and the machine blocked up. The cylinders 
were nine and a half inches by fourteen inches stroke. 
The two steam cylinders and two double-acting water 
pumps were attached, on either side of the boiler, to a 
continuous wrought iron frame. The machine was 
begun at the close of 1839, and completed in the fol¬ 
lowing April. The trials took place at the City Hall 
Park, and, as the aqueduct proved inadequate, the cis¬ 
terns located there were used. At its full power 
10,824 pounds were thrown through a two and one- 
eighth inch nozzle to a height of 166 feet per minute, 
while the engine was drawing through four lengths 
of suction hose, from a depth of twelve feet. Other 
experiments were made which proved satisfactory, and 
the companies completed the purchase. It was located 
in a house containing a boiler, in which steam was 
constantly kept up at a low pressure, and so arranged 
as to discharge its water into the engine on an alarm 
of fire being given. Fuel was arranged ready to be 
kindled in the furnace, so that on arriving at the fire 
all would be ready for work. Much jealousy was 
created among the fire companies of this city by its 
presence, and it was finally abandoned on account of 
the expense. 


> 


\ 





.FIRST STEAM FIRE ENGINE BUILT IN AMERICA— 1840 . 





































































































601 


STEAM FIRE-ENGINES. 

\ 

Other experiments were subsequently tried at 
various times in different parts of the United States, 
but from one cause or another failed to prove satisfac¬ 
tory. The superiority of the steamer over the hand- 
engine, after it was fairly in operation, was acknowl¬ 
edged by all; but celerity in getting a stream on the 
conflagration was the prime consideration. A few 
gallons of water thrown in the beginning were more 
efficacious in arresting destruction than as many bar¬ 
rels after it was under good headway. This was where 
. the hand-engines had the advantage ; they were ready 
for immediate action, and lost but little time in reach¬ 
ing the scene of danger. The steamers, on the con-, 
trary, were of great weight, and their movements 
were necessarily slower. One of the most difficult 
problems to solve was, to combine the required strength 
with lightness; and another was to generate steam 
quickly enough. After that it was. necessary to over¬ 
come popular prejudice, especially that of the fire¬ 
men, which was exceedingly strong. These results 
were not attained until 1852; meanwhile the whole 
question stood in abeyance. In that year the ques¬ 
tion was settled in Cincinnati by the successful trial 
of a steamer constructed by Messrs. A. & B. Latta, to 
whom the world is indebted for the steam fire-engine 
as a practical machine, and whose name, better than 
any other, is known in this connection. 

To Mr. A. B. Latta, of Cincinnati, the citizens of 
this country and Europe are indebted for the success 

of the machine which has revolutionized the fire de- 

» 

partments of both, and saved many millions of valuable 
property. We present to our readers the story of its 
introduction as furnished to the Insurance Monitor 
by Mr. Finley Latta,, a brother of the gentleman 


G02 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


whose name will always be associated with this great 
revolution in the method of extinguishing fires. 

These engines have been made to raise steam and 
throw water in three and a half minutes from the time 
of lighting the fire. But in respect to distance, no 
Cincinnati steamer since constructed has exceeded the 
performance of Mr. Latta’s second engine, the “ Citi¬ 
zen’s Gift,” which at one of the trials discharged a 
stream through an inch and a half nozzle to a distance 
of 310 feet We will now let Mr. Latta tell the story 
of the triumph of the engine which bears his name. 

In the fall of the year 1851 a fire occurred in Cin¬ 
cinnati, whose damage was greatly aggravated by one 
of the frequent fights between rival fire companies. 
Mr. R. G. Bray, at that time chief engineer, after wit¬ 
nessing the disgraceful scene, as well as the unneces¬ 
sary destruction of property, set on foot inquiries to 
learn whether it was possible to extinguish fires with¬ 
out employing so much manual labor. It had become 
apparent that rioting would eventually destroy the 
efficiency of our fire department, which at one time had 
no superior. Our most wealthy citizens were ready for 
anything which promised a reform. Our city was not 
alone in this matter; the fire departments of nearly 
every city of the Union were in the same condition. 
Chief Bray did not rest until he had discovered some 
plan which promised success. Mr. A. B. Latta submitted 
such a plan, with a statement that the engine he pro¬ 
posed could raise steam in five minutes and throw wa¬ 
ter in sufficient quantity to extinguish a conflagration. 
Three men only were required to man it, a fireman, 
driver and engineer. Mr. Bray agreed to bear half the 
expense of the experimental steamer in order to con¬ 
vince the Fire Department Committee of the feasibility 


STEAM EIRE-ENGINE S. 


603 


of the plan. Mr. Latta resolved to construct the engine 
as quickly and with as little expense as possible. The 
only thing about which there was any misgiving, was 
whether steam could be generated within the time 
stated. Mr. Latta was at the time building an engine for 
the purpose of driving the machinery in the city shop, 
the steam cylinder of which was eight inches in diameter 
with a twenty-four inch stroke. It was decided to use 
this engine for the experiment. The pump was taken 
off a Farnam build of hand-engine belonging to the 
city, having a diameter of four inches and a stroke of 
twenty-four inches. These two connected together 
made up the working part of the engine. The boiler 
was made of gas pipe bent in coils one above the 
other, starting with f inch pipe, then enlarging to 1 
inch, 1J inches, and finishing with 14 inches. A sheet- 
iron jacket encasing the coils completed the boiler. 
The carriage was constructed of an old hook and lad¬ 
der truck abandoned by one of the companies. The 
boiler and engine were mounted on a wooden frame, 
and the whole being then placed upon the carriage, 
completed the experimental engine. 

The preparations having been completed, an invita¬ 
tion was extended to the members of the City Council 
to witness a trial of the new fire extinguisher on the 
10th of March, 1852. The announcement drew a 
large assemblage of citizens and firemen together on 
the day appointed. A committee consisting of Miles 
Greenwood, George Graham, and Uncle Joe Foss, were 
selected to guage its performances. 

In four and a half minutes from the time of light¬ 
ing the fire, the engine threw water from the nozzle, a 
surprise to everybody. One hundred and seventy feet 
was the greatest distance reached. All seemed satis- 


604 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


tied from the experiment, that an engine could be con¬ 
structed which could raise steam quickly enough to be 
of service at fires. The committee unanimously re¬ 
ported a recommendation to have a steamer constructed 
for the use of the city, after the plan exhibited, and 
the committee were authorized by Council to contract 
with Messrs. Latta, Shawk & Co. The committee, 
after consulting with the builders, decided to have one 
large enough to throw six streams at once, in order 
that three or four hand engines might be supplied, 
while the remaining streams were thrown upon the 
fire, so as to demonstrate beyond all cavil whether 
engines could be worked independent of the rowdy 
element. An appropriation of five thousand dollars 
had been made for the purpose, but to build the ma¬ 
chine proposed would cost ten thousand dollars. The 
difficulty was surmounted by charges additional for 
extras, which involved much trouble and finally termi¬ 
nated in a law suit. 

The engine, however, was completed about the 15th 
of the following December. It had two steam cylinders, 
ten inches in diameter and twenty-four inch stroke, with 
two pumps six inches in diameter and twenty-four inch 
stroke. The engine could be coupled to the two hind 
wheels or one at pleasure. The weight of the whole was 
ten tons. After a sufficient head of steam was raised 
to propel the engine, the horses did nothing but guide it. 
The large tank directly over the front wheel contained 
seventy gallons of water, an amount sufficient to run the 
engine thirty minutes while propelling itself under 
steam. The engine was drawn by four stout horses and 
in appearance did not promise much success. The first 
of January was fixed for the trial. To the inventor this 
was the most interesting day of his life. The fire was 

























































































































































606 


FIGHTING FIFE. 


kindled at the starting point in Race street, between 
Fourth and Fifth. From thence the route was to the 
cistern "on the corner of Broadway and Columbia 
streets. A steep decline of some sixty-five feet in a 
couple of squares on Broadway led many to look for 
a disaster here before any pumping could be done. 
One party was sure, even if the engine descended the 
hill safely, it could not return, and solicited the job 
of erecting a shed for its accommodation at the foot. 
The hand engines were present to contest with the 
steamer, and the companies had picked men to work 
them. One of the two engines chosen to compete met 
with an accident, and left but one competitor. When 
the word was given the fire was lighted and the horses 
started. At the corner of Fourth and Main streets 
the engine was coupled to the wheels. The street was 
densely packed with spectators, some wishing success 
for the sake of law and order, others praying in their 
own way for failure. On the descending grade the 
engines were reversed, showing the machine to be 
under thorough control. The Committee on the Fire 
Department took charge of the trial. The hook and 
ladder company formed in hollow square around the 
contestants. The hand engine, one of Hunneman’s 
build, with two pumps of nine inches in diameter and 
thirteen inch stroke, was the most powerful in the city. 
It played through one section of hose and an inch 
nozzle. The steamer played the same length of hose 
and an inch and a half nozzle. The steam engine 
threw two hundred and twenty-five feet and held a 
steady stream. Then cheers went up for the steamer 
while its adversary was quietly taken from the ground. 

Miles Greenwood stepped up to the engineer and 
said, “Now we have it all our own way, let us show 


STEAM FIRE-ENGINES. 


607 

them what we could do in case of a fire.” Accord¬ 
ingly, four lines of hose, five hundred feet each, were 
laid from the engine with inch nozzles. Through 
these the engine threw steady streams over five-story 
buildings, a distance of two hundred feet, to the de¬ 
light of the friends of the experiment. Then si,x 
streams were played through $ inch nozzles, a distance 
of one hundred and seventy-five feet. At this stage 
Mr. Shultz mounted the tank and moved to christen 
the engine, “ Uncle Joe Ross,” which was carried by 
acclamation. a Uncle Joe Ross ” was a member of one 
of the companies, who had contended in favor of the 
enterprise from the first, but he was pronounced crazy 
and burned in effigy by his comrades. One thing yet 
remained to be tried, whether the steamer could ascend 
the hill. On the word being given the engine was 
coupled to the wheels and the hill was surmounted 
without a halt. The members of the Council were 
determined to have the steamer thoroughly tested, and 
to this end constructed a building for housing it, and 
hired an engineer, fireman, driver, and pipeman. On 
the 1st of February, 1853, the company was organized, 
the first regular steam fire-engine company in the 
United States. 

A steam fire-engine requires to possess in the highest 
degree the following important qualifications, for which 
the reasons given will be a satisfactory proof; and it 
must be carefully remembered that each should be 
attained without injuring or sacrificing another, and 
they may be arranged as follows: 

Quickness in raising steam , so as to be ready for 
work in the shortest possible time; Simplicity of Con¬ 
struction , so as to be easily worked by any person of 
ordinary intelligence; Strength , so as to avoid break- 


608 


FIGHTING FJRE. 


downs from hard work at fires, or from traveling rap¬ 
idly to them; Durability , so that its working may not 
damage it and cause it to be frequently under repair; 
Lightness , to enable it to be easily and rapidly drawn, 
with all its accompaniments, by a couple of ordinary 
horses; Efficiency , to enable it to perform the greatest 
amount of work for its size and weight; and Manage¬ 
ability , to ensure its useful employment when at a fire, 
and to enable its powers to be varied with ease and 
certainty, in accordance with the varying requirements 
of a fire, and thereby enable it to produce the greatest 
effect with the minimum of damage. 











CHAPTER XXXIX. 


EXTINGUISHING FLAME WITH CARBONIC ACID 

GAS. 

A Volcano in Action Suggests the Use of Gas as a Means for Extinguish¬ 
ing Flame.—Putting Out Fires at their Start.—The True Value of a 
Portable Fire Extinguisher.—The Phillips Patent.—The Basis of the 
Extinguishers at Present in Use.—Carbonic Acid Gas, and its Effect 
upon Fire.—How it is Manufactured.—Description of the Machine and 
its Use.—Special Tests.—Value of the Invention.—Its Superiority over 
all other Methods.—A True Fire Annihilator. 


OME years ago a volcanic island was thrown 
up in the middle of the Mediterranean sea 
from a depth of eighty fathoms, and the 
magnitude of the eruption may be imagined 
from the fact that the whole of the south 
of Europe, from Gibraltar to Stromboli, 
was agitated by the subterranean convulsion. The 
island of molten lava was like a crescent, presenting 
an open crater, into which the sea rushed like a 
cataract during the periodical cessation of the erup¬ 
tion. When the eruption recommenced, the flood of 
water was again ejected from the crater to the height 
of many thousand feet, and when falling on the 
burning island the water produced no effect on the 






FIGHTING FIliE. 


610, 

flames issuing from the ravines; but wherever the 
wind carried the cloud of vapor, there the flames 
were suddenly annihilated. 

This is said to have suggested the use of gases as 
potent agents for extinguishing fire. 

It is clearly shown that if a conflagration has once 
gained headway, the throwing of water upon it is 
likely to be futile, if not actually to increase the evil. 
The way in which water puts out fire is by cooling 
the burning body below the point of combustion, and 
(to a limited extent) by excluding the air necessary 
to combustion. But the flame may be so hot and 
large that water is mere mockery. Obviously, our 
expensive fire departments, intended to deal with 
conflagrations, ought to be re-inforced by arrange¬ 
ments for extinguishing fires before they become 
conflagrations. 

These considerations have led to the invention of 
portable fire extinguishers, in which carbonic acid 
gas is the agent employed to destroy combustion. 
But this gas alone could not be thrown effectively 
upon a fire, since it would be swept away by the 
violent air-currents surrounding the flame. Hence it 
is employed in water, and a few gallons of water, 
carrying a full charge of carbonic acid, are found to 
be more effective than many pailsful of water alone, 
while, at the same time, the amount of incidental 
damage is proportionately reduced. 

The use of carbonic acid gas is now recognized as a 
most useful and valuable auxiliary during the early 
stages of fire. The application of this gas to the 
extinguishing of fires is of very modern date, although 
its properties in that respect have long been known. 
In 1844 a patent was granted to Mr. H. Phillips in 


FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


611 


England, for a Fire Extinguisher the means of ex¬ 
tinguishing the flames being carbonic acid gas and 
the vapor of water. An improvement upon this was 
patented in England by Philips in 1849, and in this 
country by him in 1850. 

This extinguisher excited great interest in Eng¬ 
land at the time and subsequently, and has been in 
use in the city of Philadelphia for at least twenty 
years. 

It consists of a portable machine for the immedi¬ 
ate production of steam, and carbonic acid and other 
gases; which, being directed upon the burning mat¬ 
ter, is designed to check the progress of the flames 
more speedily than the usual application of water. It 
is of a cylindrical form and slightly conical; it varies 
in size from sixteen inches by eight inches, to twenty- 
four inches by twelve inches. It is charged with a 
composition of powdered charcoal, nitrate of potass, 
and gypsum, in the following proportions: Charcoal, 
20; potass, 60; gypsum, 5. These materials are 
boiled together in w T ater, and then dried in a stove at 
a temperature of 100°. The whole is moulded into 
the form of a brick, down the axis of which penetrates 
a hollow cavity for the reception of a bottle, contain¬ 
ing a mixture of chlorate of potassa and sugar, 
surmounted by a globule of sulphuric acid. The charge 
so prepared is placed in a cylindrical vessel, perforated 
in many places, which is itself placed within another 
cylindrical vessel, also perforated for the passage 
of the gases; both these are contained within a 
double cylindrical receiver, the lower part of which 
contains a quantity of water. The apparatus is closed 
by two covers, in the outer of which is an opening for 
the escape of the vapor. In the center of the cover 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


612 

is placed a spike for the purpose of breaking the 
glass bottle deposited in the cavity of the charge. 
The spike being forced down, breaks this bottle, and 
the sulphuric acid falling on the mixture of chlorate 
of potassa and sugar causes instantaneous combustion, 
and, spreading over the charge, causes a second 
ignition at once to take place. The gases thus formed 
pass through the perforators, and by heating the air 
in the water-chamber and causing it to expand, forces 
the water up a tubular passage into the space between 
and around the cylindrical vessels placed each within 
each, and being thus converted into vapor, mixes 
with the gases and escapes by the discharge tube. 
The discharge forms a dense cloud, which continues 
until the charge is consumed and the water quite ex¬ 
hausted. The efficiency of this invention has been 
greatly increased by improvements lately added by 
the inventor in London. 

The original patent for the apparatus at present in 
use was granted, we believe, to French inventors, 
Messrs. Carlier & Vignon, for a machine from which 
carbonic acid could be ejected by its own pressure, for 
the purpose of extinguishing fire. Upon this princi¬ 
ple, various forms of extinguishers have been manufac¬ 
tured. The oldest, in this country, consisted of a 
cylinder, containing bicarbonate of soda in solution, 
and an interior tube, containing crystallized tartaric 
acid, the whole being hermetically closed, but a com¬ 
munication left at the bottom of the tube, through 
which a reaction took place, gradually converting the 
bicarbonate into tartrate of soda, and liberating the 
carbonic acid. This reaction being complete, the ap¬ 
paratus was ready for use, and on opening a cock at 
the bottom, the contents could be violently ejected 


FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


613 


through a short hose. But by standing two or three 
months in this condition, the pressure in the appar¬ 
atus was often so greatly diminished as to destroy its 
efficiency. It is found, therefore, that the carbonic 
acid must be generated immediately before it is to be 
used; and this is the case in all the fire extinguishers 
now before the public. To produce this result, liquid 
sulphuric acid is used instead of crystals of tartaric 
acid, and is kept apart from the solution of bicar¬ 
bonate of soda until the moment before use. 

The sulphuric acid is contained in a leaden bucket, 
hung upon trunnions below its center, so that if set 
free, the bucket immediately turns upside down. It 
is kept rigidly upright, however, by a stopper attached 
to a rod passing through the cap of the apparatus. 
This stopper also completely prevents communication 
between the acid of the alkali. When the ex¬ 
tinguisher is to be used, the stopper is pulled up by 
means of an exterior handle; the bucket instantly 
turns over and empties itself into the liquid, filling 
the cylinder. 

The basis of all these inventions is carbonic acid 
gas and other gases which are generated in large 
quantities, and with great rapidity, and discharged 
by various appliances upon or about any burning 
mass and diffused into the atmosphere where the fire 
is burning; the admixture of carbonic acid gas with 
common air in the proportion of five parts of the gas 
to ninety-five of air, is sufficient to extinguish any 
ordinary flame. The substances used to evolve the 
gas are various. Generally some form of alkali, 
operated upon by sulphuric acid. As the apparatus 
and its mode of operation are new to most of our 
readers, we give the following description of one of 
the best of these machines: 


614 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


The accompanying drawing shows the interior of 
the machine. 

The leaden bucket A, holds the charge of acid, and 
is kept in its upright position by the stopper 0, at¬ 
tached to the rod B, coming through cap C. To pre¬ 
pare the Extinguisher for use requires about one 
minute. 

Dissolve the contents of the tin box in water and 
pour into the extinguisher— 
fill the extinguisher with water 
to within three inches of the 
top. Pour the contents of 
glass bottle (acid) into leaden 
bucket, put in the stopper 
firmly, insert bucket in the ex¬ 
tinguisher, and screw down 
cap hard and tight. In this 
condition it may be placed in 
position most accessible in case 
of fire, where it may remain 
any length of time, always 
ready for immediate use. In 
case of fire, pull up the knob 
H; this draws out the stopper 
0, and the bucket A turns 
bottom side up, as shown by 
the dotted lines B, being only 
supported, after the stopper is 
withdrawn, by pivots P P, thus discharging its con¬ 
tents into the carbonated water. Instantaneous and 
powerful chemical action takes place, supplying sixty 
to ninety pounds pressure to the square inch to throw 
the stream, and securing perfect readiness to play upon 
the fire in ten seconds of time. With this simple and 


R 















FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


615 


powerful appliance, any person who has property to 
protect has more and better protection against loss by 
fire than either the city or village fire departments 
can give them. The fact above stated that full ninety 
per cent, of the fires that occur are seen in their 
early beginnings, when the extinguisher has ample 
capacity to put them out, justifies the above state¬ 
ment. 

DIRECTIONS FOR USE. 

To prepare, dissolve contents of white package in 
water and pour into extinguisher—fill extinguisher 
with water to within three inches of the top—pour 
contents of glass bottle carefully into the lead tube— 
put in the stopper firmly—insert tube in the ex¬ 
tinguisher, and screw down hard and tight. In case 
of fire , pull up the handle or knob on top, shake the 
machine—it will be ready to play immediately. 

The cylinder is made of copper, lined with tin, and 
tested to stand a pressure of 250 pounds to the 
square inch, but the actual pressure is only 100 
pounds to the square inch when it is charged with 
the gas. 

The apparatus is charged with seven gallons of 
water, two and a half pounds of bicarbonate of soda, 
and eight fluid ounces of sulphuric acid (about 60° 
Beaume’s). The action is as follows: The eight 
fluid ounces of commercial sulphuric acid in the lead 
bucket contain about ten ounces avoirdupois of 
anhydrous acid. This unites with eight ounces of 
soda, liberating eleven ounces of carbonic acid. This 
amount of acid would occupy, if allowed to expand 
under atmospheric pressure, seventy-seven cubic feet; 
but being compressed in a high degree, it generates a 




G16 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


pressure of about 100 pounds per square inch. Mean¬ 
while, it will be seen that only nineteen ounces of the 
bicarbonate of soda have been decomposed, and twen¬ 
ty-one ounces of this substance, together with eighteen 
ounces of sulphate of soda, remain in the solution. 
When this is ejected upon the fire, half the carbonic 
acid, or about six ounces, is expelled by the heat, and 
constitutes, with that already free, an atmosphere of 
carbonic acid immediately about the flame, mixed 
with steam. Meanwhile, the fifteen ounces of the 
simple carbonate of soda remaining, and the eighteen 
ounces of sulphate of soda, form, after the flame is 
extinguished, a sort of crust upon the body which 
was burning, which hinders the return of the fire. In 
this way, the seven gallons of water in the extinguish¬ 
ers are as effective as a hundred gallons of ordinary 
water would be. In the government machines manu¬ 
factured for use in remote army posts, a still larger 
excess of bicarbonate is used. 

When the cup, containing the sulphuric acid, is 
emptied into the solution, 300 times the volume of 
the water is evolved in carbonic acid gas. The acid 
being neutralized by the alkali, the solution produces 
little effect upon the lining of the cylinder. 

The pressure of the gas throws the solution of gas 
and water thirty feet. Cords are attached to the ma¬ 
chine so that it can be slung upon the back, and the 
bearer can walk around and up to the fire as near as 
may be necessary to extinguish it. After playing for 
several minutes until the cylinder is discharged of its 
contents, it can be refilled in thirty seconds, the stop¬ 
cock can be turned, and the fire attacked afresh. 

This invention has lately been extended and en¬ 
larged, and large engines are now made with heavy 


FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


617 

copper tanks, which can be filled alternately, so that 
a constant stream of carbonic acid gas and water may 
be directed upon the flames. One of these engines, 
belonging to the fire department of New York, was 
lately tested and found to throw a stream through two 
hundred and fifty feet of liose and fifty feet from the 
nozzle. 

No practical difficulty has been experienced from 
the vitiation of the atmosphere arising from the mix¬ 
ture of carbonic acid gas with the air necessary for 
breathing while the fireman is playing the machine. 

The extinguisher has been subjected to special 
tests in order to prove its efficiency. The following 
is an account of one of these trials, which took place 
recently at Wilmington, Delaware :— 

A temporary frame building, 25 feet long, 20 feet 
wide, and 12 feet high, with pitched roof of well- 
seasoned white pine, had been erected, inside of 
which fourteen tar barrels were piled up, and partly 
filled with shavings saturated with oil; and as if this 
was not sufficiently combustible to test the powers 
of the Extinguisher, the inner sides of the building 
were smeared with tar, and shavings were strewn 
around on the ground 

Almost instantaneously with the application of 
the match, a lurid flame of fire leaped from the tar 
barrels, and in an incredibly short space of time 
enveloped the entire building in one solid sheet. 
Several minutes elapsed ere a stream was turned on 
from the engine, and many persons confidently looked 
for the roof to fall momentarily. But with the first 
application of the water and gas a marked effect was 
apparent. Wherever it fell the flames were not only 
subdued, but they seemed to refuse to again ignite 


618 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the wood, and in the short space of a moment the 
fire was almost entirely extinguished, and only a 
black cloud of smoke was seen rising. 

After the lapse of a few moments the building was 
again fired, and after it was again enveloped in flame 
and the roof had begun to fall in, a stream was turned 
on a second time from the engine, with a marked 
result. The exhibition.was thorough and complete, 
and all present could not have been otherwise than 
satisfied with the fairness of the test. 

In all the large cities of the United States the 
extinguisher has rendered valuable aid in subduing 
fires, more especially such as have been taken in 
hand soon after their commencement. 

The problem of putting out fires by the use of 
gases seems at last to have been solved. 

The Chemical Fire Extinguisher is no'w recognized 
as a most useful and valuable auxiliary during the 
early stages of a fire. It is easily carried to any 
position where a fireman can go himself, and being 
ready charged, it can be used with great effect by 
those who first reach the fire. It contains carbonic 
acid gas, in solution with water, of which solution 
every gallon is equal to forty gallons of simple water. 
The pressure of the gas forces the solution a distance 
of about fifty feet from the nozzle at the end of a 
short hose, by which means the person operating the 
extinguisher can direct the stream to any point 
accessible. 

The extinguisher, as we already described, is made 
of copper, fined with tin, strongly riveted together, 
and when once charged is always ready for instant 
use, without loss of time, even if it has not been 
used for years. By the new mode of charging the 


FIRE EXTINGUISHERS. 


619 


extinguisher, which keeps the acid and alkali apart, 
until required for use at a fire, all pressure upon the 
extinguisher is avoided, except when in use, which 
prevents the machine from losing its power from the 
leakage of the gas. 

The superiority of a chemical fire extinguisher 
consists:— 

1st. In its Simplicity. It dispenses with complex 
machinery, fire companies, reservoirs, and suction 
hose. Carbonic acid gas is both the working and 
extinguishing agent. 

2d. In Promptness. It is always ready. No steam 
to be raised, no fire to be kindled, no hose to be laid, 
and no large company to be mustered. The chemi¬ 
cals are kept in place , and the gas generated the 
instant wanted. 

Inlialf the cases the time thus saved is a building 
saved. Five minutes at the right time are worth 
five hours at the wrong time. 

3d. In Efficiency. Mere water inadequately ap¬ 
plied feeds the fire, but carbonic acid gas never. 
Balk for bulk, it is thirty times as effective as water, 
the sixty-six gallons of the two cylinders being equal 
to nineteen hundred and eighty gallons of water. 

4th. In Convenience. Two or three men can draw 
it and manage it. Its small dimensions require but a 
small area for work or storage. One hundred feet or 
more of its light, pliant hose can be carried on a 
man’s arm up any number of stairs inside a building, 
or, if fire forbids, up a ladder outside. 

5th. In Saving From Water what the fire has 
spared. It smothers, but does not deluge \ the modi¬ 
cum of water used to give momentum to the gas is 
soon evaporated by the heat, doing little or no 


620 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


damage to what is below. This feature of the engine 
is of incalculable worth to housekeepers , merchants, 
and insurance companies. 

6th. In Economy. It costs only about half as much 
as an average hand-engine, and about one-tenth as 
much as a steam-engine, with its necessary append¬ 
ages, and the chemicals for each charge cost about 
one dollar. 



\ 


CHAPTER XL. 


FIRE DEPARTMENTS, AND HOW TO PUT OUT A 

FIRE. 

The Fire Department System in the United States.—A Visit to Head- 
quarters in New York.—The Fire Boxes and tlieir Use.—Telegraphic 
Apparatus.—A Gigantic Music Box.—Striking the Gong.—Sending 
Word to the Steamers.—Mending the Broken Wires.—The Rendez- 
vous.—Sounding the Alarm.—A Visit to the Engine Houses.—The 
Horses and the Iron Horse.—Waiting for the Signal.—The Composi¬ 
tion of a Fire Company.—An Alarm Sounded upon the Gong.— Getting 
Ready to Start in Thirteen Seconds.—A Dash Through the Darkness. 
—On the Ground, and at Work.—Fires in a Diminishing Scale.—An 
Efficient Organization.—Fighting Smoke.—A Good Respirator. 

HERE are at the present time twelve hund¬ 
red distinct fire departments in the country, 
consisting of from one to fifty companies 
(New York State alone having near three 
hundred distinct departments), with a force 
of 250,000 members, which cost the mu¬ 
nicipal authorities a sum not less than twenty millions 
of dollars annually to support them, besides a large 
amount expended by members of volunteer depart¬ 
ments, some of such departments being entirely sup¬ 
ported by the members of the different companies who 
own their apparatus, hose, house, etc. 



37 



022 FIGHTING FIRE. 

In the great cities the fire departments have been 
organized to a very high point of excellence. The 
mere mechanism of their complex system of operation 
is nearly perfect—being defective only from that gen¬ 
eral frailty which is incident to all humanity. If the 
members but do their duty it would seem as if here¬ 
after the ravages of the great destroyer would be 
stayed. Let us in order to obtain a clearer view of 
the workings of these organizations, visit the fire de¬ 
partment of New York city, which is generally con¬ 
ceded to be the most perfect upon this continent. 



SENDING THE ALARM TO THE GENERAL OFFICE. 


The general office of the fire department of New 
York city is in Mercer street, near Houston street. 
Communicating with this building are 548 wires con¬ 
nected with as many iron boxes, fastened up in the 







































































































































































































































































































































t 

































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































FIRE DEPARTMENTS. 




625 

different fire districts, each district having its box 
numbered to correspond with the number of the dis¬ 
trict. Each of the thirty-eight.fire engine companies 
detaches two of its men to act as patrols during the 
night, and one during the day, so that there are 
seventy-six men in the former hours and thirty-eight 
in the latter whose duty it is to w^atch for fires. 

AYhenever one of these patrolmen, or a policeman, 
or one of the insurance patrol (an organization of 
which we shall speak presently) discovers a fire he 
pulls up a catch attached to the box in his district; 
this announces the number of the district to the gen¬ 
eral office. Entering this office we proceed to a rear 
apartment upon the second floor. 

Three sides of this apartment are completely filled 
with apparatus—some of it, so intricate and delicate that 
it must be kept covered with glass, to exclude the least 
dust or grit, which would at once interfere with its 
movements. At the end of the room facing the en¬ 
trance, may be seen the wires which centre here from 
all parts of the city, to the number of nearly two hun¬ 
dred, each with its little brass key with which it is 
thrown “into circuit.” To the right of this frame of 
wires stands a large u annunciator,” similar to that 
used in hotels ; this is surmounted by a Morse mag¬ 
net and a small gong. Below and in front of the an¬ 
nunciator is a printing machine, and on each side of 
this is a u dial machine ” and pointer, similar to those 
used in the station houses. On the opposite side of 
the room a very beautiful piece of mechanism stands 
on a table covered with glass and alwaj^s ready for 
use. At the first glance one would say it was rather 
a complicated musical box or a small barrel organ ; 
for it has six drums with the stops and steel comb, 



G26 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


and its operation is somewhat similar. To this instru¬ 
ment is entrusted the work of conveying an alarm to 
every engine house from the Battery to Harlem, 
which it does with “neatness and dispatch.” 

To illustrate, let us suppose that an alarm is struck 
on the gong. The number rung is 256 ; instantly the 
annunciator uncovers this number, the printing 
machine writes it down three times, and the gong re¬ 
peats it twice. The wires are thrown at once into a 
u circuit ” by an operator, while another places a brass 
button bearing the same number on the spindle of the 
machine in the glass case, touches a spring, and off 
starts the automaton operator, striking 2-5-6 on every 
fire gong in the city, making a pause of five seconds, 
and then repeating the 2-5-6, and yet again repeating 
the numbers after a similar pause. While this is going 
on, the same operator throws the wires to the bell- 
towers into circuit, and the alarm is thrice sent to 
them; and, in less time than it takes to read the de¬ 
scription, the bells are heard, and if the fire is near 
the office, the engines rattle by. 

The next step is to make a record of what apparatus 
is at the fire, which is done by pulling out from their 
receptacles in a neat frame, cards bearing the numbers 
of the engines and trucks which respond to a first 
alarm. This is scarcely done before 3-3-3 is rung on 
the gong. This is a private signal, sent from some 
box by a fireman, policeman, or perhaps one of the 
commissioners, who has not heard the alarm distinctly, 
and wants to know where the fire is. The number of 
the box whence the alarm came (2-5-6) is at once 
sent to the box designated by the annunciator, where 
jt is rung on a little bell. Occasionally this inquiry 
comes from several boxes. 


FIRE DEPARTMENTS. 


627 


By this time the bells in the office have ceased their 
tinkling, the automaton has given its alarm, the rec¬ 
ord of engines out is made, and the operator sits down 
to compare notes as to what buildings are in the 
neighborhood of the box giving the alarm, and the 
probabilities of a large fire. But any apprehensions 
are allayed very soon by the signals 2-2-2—6, an¬ 
nouncing that engine No. 6 has returned from the 
scene of the fire, proving that it was a trivial affair or 
a false alarm. No. 6 is returned to its place on the 
register, showing that the district is no longer unpro¬ 
tected. The other engines announce their return in 
a similar way. In a few minutes after the last one 
has returned, a report of the property burned, the 
cause of the fire and the probable loss, is received 
from the police station in the district, all of which is 
registered. 

At some time during the night, or perhaps two or 
three times, the roll is called to ascertain if the tower- 
men are at their posts and awake. This is done by 
throwing all the tower wires into circuit, and giving 
the private signals, which is responded to by the 
watchers striking the numbers of their respective 
towers on the gong in the office. As an instance of 
how acute the sense of hearing becomes by constant 
training, it may be mentioned that an operator can 
almost certainly tell by the manner in which the num¬ 
bers are struck whether the reply comes from the 
proper tower, or another watcher is answering. Bor 
instance, if tower No. 6 answers for itself, and then 
attempts to answer for No. 9, the difference in the 
manipulation, for the longest signal will be detected 
by the operator at headquarters. In this case, or 
should no reply be received, a messenger is despatched 
to find out why the tower is without its occupant. 


628 


FIGHTING EIRE. 


Of course, where instant action is required, it is 
necessary that the circuits be complete, the batteries 
all in working order, and the machinery without 
fault. To secure this, the aid of music is very inge 
niously obtained. A number of magnetic coils are 
attached to the hammers of a harmonicon, and they, 
with the plates of the instrument, form the opposite 
poles. To prove that everything is in perfect order 
this harmonicon is thrown into connection with the 



JOSEPH L. PERLEY, 

(Chief Engineer New York Eire Department.) 

other machinery, and if everything is right a com¬ 
plete octave from C to C is performed. Should any¬ 
thing be out of order one or more notes will be 
dropped, and the missing tone indicates where to 
look for the trouble. 

Like all other telegraph lines, accidents will happen 
to the wires occasionally, and here another very 
ingenious contrivance is brought into use. Should 











FIRE DEPARTMENTS. 


629 


there be any break in the line running up Third 
avenue, for instance, instead of sending a man to ex¬ 
amine the wire, from the central office to Harlem and 
back again, the circuit is made complete, a little 
instrument attached, and a current sent through the 
line, which travels until it meets the break, where, of 
course it stops; and this point is indicated so exactly 
that the operator can tell almost the particular block 
in which the repairers must look for the trouble. 

The first alarm is communicated from the head 
office to five engines and three hook and ladder 
companies, which rendezvous at the box in order to 
ascertain where the fire is, unless they discover it 
themselves, in which case they repair to the fire and 
proceed to work. The second alarm is ten taps upon 
the gong in the engine houses and calls for three addi¬ 
tional engines and one hook and ladder company. 
These alarms being continued, if necessary, till the 
whole force of the city engines may be summoned 
out. In case of accidents, by seventeen taps, an am¬ 
bulance is called for. 

Having gone through the headquarters and had a 
chat with Chief Engineer Perley and with General 
Shaler, the president of the department, let us now 
visit one of the engine houses and see how the fire¬ 
men perform their part of the business. 

On the ground floor stands the steamer in complete 
order, and shining with burnished steel, brass, and 
copper. By means of a pipe connecting with the 
boiler and passing through a stove in the basement 
the water in the boiler is kept warm, so that upon 
kindling the furnace beneath it sufficient steam may 
in from three to four minutes be generated to work the 
engine. Next to the steamer stands the hose reel. 


630 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


In the rear are three stalls, where three large well- 
fed and trained dray horses are standing ready har¬ 
nessed. On the next floor is a fireman’s room fitted 



THE STABLE. 


up with bunks. Here the firemen remain night and 
day unless on duty. The night is divided into watches 
—three men are on watch from twelve to six, and two 
are on watch from six to eight in the morning, this lat¬ 
ter being known as the dog watch. Each company is 
composed of twelve men, viz. : a foreman, an assist¬ 
ant foreman, an engineer, and nine firemen. On one 
side of the lower room is the large gong-pattern bell, 
upon which the alarm is sounded from headquarters. 

While we stand taking a survey of the engine and 
its wonderful appliances, suddenly two heavy strokes 
















































































































































FIRE DEPARTMENTS. 


631 


are made upon the gong,—a pause, and then five 
more strokes, another pause and then six more strokes 
—there is a fire in district 256 ; hardly has the first 
stroke sounded when a loud clatter is heard; it is the 
heavy boots of the firemen rushing pell-mell down 
the stairs, and the iron-shod hoofs of the great horses, 
trotting of their own motion out of their stalls and 
taking their places in front of the engine and hose¬ 
reel. By an ingenious contrivance which dispenses 



READY FOR THE START. 

with traces, the horses are attached to*the engine and 
hose reel. From the first sharp, clean stroke upon 
the gong till the horses are connected and ready to 
























































































































































632 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


start, only thirteen seconds has elapsed. The fires are 
lighted, the great doors opening into the street fly 
open as if by magic. Two firemen dash on ahead to 
clear the track, the driver, already in his seat, lashes 
the horses,♦and away the ponderous monster rolls, 
spitting fire and sparks as it thunders through the 
street. It is early in the evening, though already 
dark as Erebus, were it not for the gaslights, which 
wink and glimmer feebly through the frosty air. 
Sooner than this description has been penned, the 
steamer has reached its destination, the suction hose 
has been screwed on the hydrant, and, as the black 
smoke rolls in huge volumes from its chimney, the 
steel-ribbed and brass-jacketed giant is hurling torrents 
of water upon the roaring flames. 

As we have already remarked, the great point to be 
made is rapidity of movement. The difference be¬ 
tween extinguishing the flames and having them 
extend into a disastrous conflagration is often a narrow 
gap of ten seconds, and it is the study of the fire 
department and all its members to bridge this gap by 
saving every particle of time after the first alarm. 

In order still further to economize time “One of 
the Hartford steam fire engine companies has an appa¬ 
ratus connected with the gong in its engine house 
which is so arranged that when an alarm strikes it 
frees the horses and opens the stable doors. The 
horses, being trained, then trot around to their proper 
places, and are ready to be off as soon as harnessed. 

This ingenious contrivance also turns on the gas if 
the fire occurs at night, and the inventor intends to 
arrange it so tlmt it shall open the outer doors of the 
engine house, after which he will perfect the inven¬ 
tion by making it harness the horses and wake up 
delinquent firemen.” 



GOIN 





























































































































































IE FIRE 





















































FIRE DEPARTMENTS. 


635 

Perhaps nothing will more clearly demontrates the 
efficiency of the New York fire department than the 
following record of fires in that city since 1866 : 



Fires. 

Losses. 

1866 

796 

$6,428,000 

1867 - 

- 873 

5,911,000 

1868 

740 

4,342,371 

1869 - 

. - 850 

2,626,393 

1870 

964 

2,120,212 

1871 - 

- 1258 

2,127,356 

1872 (11 months.) - 

- 1370 

1,633,253 

Here it will be seen 

that though 

the number of fires 


has largely increased within these years, the loss in¬ 
curred is only about one-third of that in 1866. (We 
include the late disasters by which Barnum’s Mu¬ 
seum and other buildings have been destroyed.) 

In the case of a conflagration the first object of the 
fireman is to secure protection against smoke. This 
may be effected by a tube connected with an air pump 
attached to the engine outside of the building on fire. 
Secondly, protection against heat or flames is secured 
by a stout leather dress and hood. Thirdly, provision 
for light and sight is made by a powerful reflecting 
lantern on the breast, and a pair of thickly-glazed sight 
holes in the hood. Fourthly, provision is made for 
communication by a shrill whistle attached to the 
hood. Thus equipped, the bold fireman seeks the 
sleeping family, the invaluable ledger, the smouldering 
bale, the hidden spark, and he seldom fails in rescuing 
the one, or extinguishing the other. 

The protector, of which we present a cut, consists 
of an India rubber fire-proof jacket, so made as to be 
easily and quickly filled with air by means of a strap 
or handle attached to the jacket, by which the back of 


636 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the jacket is alternately elevated and depressed, and 
the air forced into it. From the. jacket a hollow rub¬ 
ber tube connects over the head with a helmet so 
secured to the head and face as to prevent anything 
reaching the nostrils, mouth or face, except the air 



FIREMAN’S RESPIRATOR AND SMOKE PROTECTOR. 


contained in the jacket. Glass strips are inserted in 
the front of the helmet, so.as to enable the wearer to 
see clearly. Jackets are made of different sizes capa¬ 
ble of furnishing air enough to last the wearer from 
fifteen to fifty minutes. 

The respirator enables firemen to enter buildings or 
other places filled with the densest smoke. 




CHAPTER XLI. 

FIGHTING FIRE WITH WATER AND STEAM. 


New Plans to Put Out Fire.—Letting in the Briny Deep.—Chief Engineer 
Tracy’s Plan.—Utilizing Steam and Gases.—Kidd’s Proposition.—A 
Patent Sprinkler.—Flames Reduced by Mist.—An Elaborate Mechan¬ 
ism.—The Hydrant System .—“ Putting a Head ” on it.—A Deluge by 
Turning a Screw.—How this Plan Works.—Can it be Adopted in our 
Large Cities.—A Few Words to Countrymen.—A Village Fire Engine. 
A Simple Recipe.—A Good Use for Woolen Blankets and Carpets.— 
Fire Escapes, their Description and Efficacy.—Sliding Down from a 
Four Story Window.—Defects of Fire Escapes. 

HE terrible ravages of the late conflagra¬ 
tions of Boston and Chicago have turned 
the attention of the community to the safe¬ 
guards against future conflagrations in our 
large cities. Among the projects having 
that end in view, two should be briefly 
noticed. The first of these is that of Mr. 
Edward H. Tracy, chief engineer of the Croton aque¬ 
duct, of New York City, in answer to a resolution of 
the Board of Aldermen, inquiring into the “ Practica¬ 
bility of having work erected on the North Kiver, at 
the upper end of the island, for the purpose of raising 
salt water for the use of the city for sanitary and such 
other purposes as it can be applied; also, the probable 

( 637 ) 




C38 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


cost of erecting such works and laying the necessary 
pipes for distributing the water throughout the city.” 

Chief Engineer Tracy starts with the assumption 
that one hundred millions gallons of water may be 
required per day for fire purposes, and that the water 
shall be pumped to an elevation of 200 feet above high 
tide at its starting point. He proposes that thirty 
acres of land be purchased in the vicinity of 173d street, 
the most southerly point on the island where land of 
sufficient elevation can be found for the purposes of a 
reservoir; that two or more engines of at least 4,000 
horse power each, to be used for pumping up the wa¬ 
ter into the reservoir; that the water be conducted 
through the city in four cast-iron mains of four feet 
diameter each; and estimates the whole expense of 
this project at $22,800,000. He calculates, however, 
that the corrosive action of salt water upon the mains 
will necessitate the laying of new mains every ten 
years at the expense of $4,000,000. 

The other project is made by Mr. Joshua Kidd, and 
that is the utilization of the exhaust steam, and also 
of the hydrogen and carbonic acid gases of the steam 
engines of the city, for the purposes of extinguishing 
fires. He continues, “ One pound of charcoal fuel dur¬ 
ing combustion produces 200 cubic feet of nitrogen 
and carbonic acid gas, and will vaporize seven pounds 
of water, yielding 200 cubic feet of steam; half a ton 
or 1,000 pounds of the same fuel will produce the 
enormous quantity of 400,000 cubic feet of incombus¬ 
tible gases and vapor, weighing together 19,460 pounds. 
When steam is mixed with a permanent gas it is more 
elastic and has less tendency to condense than before, 
the small particles of vapor being held in mechanical 
suspension by the rarefied gases. If the mixed gases 


FIGHTING FIRE WITH WATER AND STEAM. 


639 


and vapor be forced into a burning building, a pressure 
greater than that of the atmosphere will be at once 
created inside the building and prevent the admission 
of oxygen itself to support combustion. It is well 
known that fire will soon extinguish itself if deprived 
of oxygen. This being the case, incombustible gases 
equal to one fourth the capacity of any building would 
effectually extinguish a fire therein. 

Most of our steamships and large manufacturing 
establishments produce at least 400,000 cubic feet of 
steam, nitrogen, and carbonic acid gas, every fifteen 
minutes. This agent, if properly managed, is far more 
efficient for extinguishing fires than water would be, 
and has no injurious effects on merchandise. This 
immense volume of steam and gas might be easily 
conducted through suitable pipes to any part of the 
ship or factory. The present fire engines may be 
easily arranged with an attachment fitted to the smoke¬ 
stack for conducting the exhaust steam and the results 
of combustion into a building, without affecting their 
capacity for forcing water; or separate boilers and 
furnaces might be cheaply made to extinguish the nre 
with gas and steam alone. 

What is known as “ Holly’s System of Fire Protec¬ 
tion and Water Supply,” consists of a series of powerful 
rotary forcing pumps, worked by turbine wheels be¬ 
low, driven by water from the reservoir, or by a mas¬ 
sive steam engine, according as circumstances require. 
The simplicity of the system is apparent to any ob¬ 
server, and experience has shown its economy and 
efficiency. 

Its leading feature consists in this, that, independently 
of what is called a “ gravitation supply,” whether from 
an elevated reservoir, or a stand pipe on a lower plane, 


640 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the mains of a city can be supplied with water in ex¬ 
act proportion to the demand; and in case of a confla¬ 
gration, a power of propulsion can be given far exceed¬ 
ing in steadiness and degree that attained by any other 
means. By combining, with pumps so admirably con¬ 
structed and arranged, a hydrostatic pressure regulator, 
the whole is placed under such perfect control that in 
twenty seconds the pressure can be increased from the 
ordinary measure, say sixty pounds to the square inch, 
to double that amount, or even triple, if required. 

A telegraph line connects the works with the head¬ 
quarters of the fire department in the town; but, aside 
from this communication, a most delicate and auto¬ 
matic one exists in the apparatus itself, for the opening 
of a single hydrant in the most remote street, is instan¬ 
taneously indicated by the regulator, causing, at the 
same time, a bell to ring for the information of the 
engineer. 

In Lockport, Binghamton, Dunkirk, and other cities 
where this system is adopted, there are no fire engines. 
Of the force and volume of water obtained by this 
system there seems little room for doubt. Where the 
water was supplied 65 feet below the street surface, 
these water-works raised it and threw it in a perpen¬ 
dicular stream from a discharge-pipe three inches in 
diameter, 178 feet in air. About the same height in 
air was obtained in a trial, when the water passed first 
through 100 feet of hose. With the steam fire-engine, 
a steady stream could not be maintained at such an 
altitude, although under high pressure it is often 
accomplished for a short spurt in competitive exhibi¬ 
tions, but with a discharge pipe not usually exceeding 

inches. The question as to the value of the Holly 
system in large cities is the force of the water in 


FIGHTING FIRE WITH WATER AND STEAM. 


641 

hydrants at considerable distances from the water¬ 
works. How much force is lost by friction may be 
estimated from the circumstance that our best steamers, 
if using a long hose turned around two or three cor¬ 
ners, can scarcely throw a stream 70 feet perpendicu¬ 
lar. A series of valves in the street pipes, operated 
under telegraphic orders, have been suggested to sup¬ 
plement the Holly system, by somewhat concentrating 
the pressure of the water in the streets leading from 
the pumps to a fire. 

To Protect a Shingle Koof from Fire.—A wash com¬ 
posed of lime, salt, and fine sand or wood ashes, put 
on in the ordinary way of white-washing, renders the 
roof fifty-fold more safe against taking fire from cin¬ 
ders or otherwise, in cases of fire in the vicinity. It 
pays the expense a hundred-fold in its preserving in¬ 
fluence against the effect of the weather. The older 
and more weather-beaten the shingle, the more benefit 
derived. 

Carpets and blankets hung from the roof so as to 
cover the cornice, eaves, and side of a building exposed 
to fire, and kept wet, are very effective, and in nume¬ 
rous instances have prevented most serious loss. 

The Saving Blanket is a simple but most valuable 
means for saving life. One of the proper size, stretched 
tight and held below by stout and well-trained hands, 
at a height of from three to five feet from the ground, 
will receive free from harm the leaper from above, cut 
off from escape by the stair-case and driven to the 
window. 

The height to which buildings are run up in our 
large cities, and the late shocking accident at the 
Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York, where so many poor 
women were smothered to death in the top story of 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


642 

that building, have excited an anxious inquiry for 
the best description of fire escapes. We will devote 
the remaining pages of this chapter to this subject. 

Fire escapes are machines for enabling persons to 
descend from the windows of a house when it is on 
fire, and when the staircase and passages are so filled 
with the flame or smoke as to prevent a retreat by 
the ordinary avenues. Some of these machines are 
contrived to convey down valuable goods as well as 
people. 

A person who is awakened from a profound sleep 
by the flames of a fire which has already made such 
progress as to cut off all retreat, has no other alterna¬ 
tive than leaping from a window, perhaps of great 
height, or perishing by the flames. This is a situation 
so dreadful as to demand every exertion of ingenuity, 
and every regulation of the police which can contri¬ 
bute to the relief of the sufferers. 

Frequently as this tragedy is repeated, every new 
instance makes a lively impression on the public 
mind, and rarely fails to give rise to the invention of 
some new jire-escctjoe; yet still v r e do not find any of 
these adopted so generally as to remedy the evil. 
This may be owing either to the inefficiency of the 
contrivances or to the neglect of the magistracy to 
provide a proper number. 

There has been invented fire-escapes which can be 
fixed to a window, and allow the unfortunate sufferer 
to descend safely into the street. Machines of this 
kind are intended to be kept in the bed-rooms of the 
house, and each house must be provided with one at 
least, to render the contrivance generally effective. 
Both kinds have their inconveniences: the first, from 
the difficulty of conveying them with dispatch from 


FIGHTING FIRE WITH WATER AND STEAM. 043 

the places where they are deposited to the situation 
where they are to act. This objection they have in 
common with fire-engines. 

Some of the devices for escaping from fire are 
ingenious, and deserve to be briefly described. 

One of the simplest is a rope ladder, with wooden 
rails for the steps, intended to be fixed from the 
window; another is called the sling fire-escape—this 
consists of a rope by which a person fastens himself 
by a girth, and throwing himself out of a window is 
lowered slowly down the rope, having some contri¬ 
vance to cause a friction or resistance, which will 
prevent any acceleration in the motion. The simplest 
of these has but a long rope, provided with two straps 
or belts, one to buckle round the waist of a person 
who is to descend, and the other to pass under him, 
so that he sits as in a swing when suspended by the 
rope, which is rather more than twice as long as the 
height of the window from the ground. The rope is 
made to pass through a double eye or iron ring, 
suspended from a hook fixed over the window; then 
the other end of the rope is brought down to a piece 
of wood called the regulator, which is attached to the 
girdle strap that the person wears. This piece of 
wood has three holes in it, and two deep notches, 
into which the rope is woven, and will thereby have 
so much friction in passing as to make it slip through 
regularly, and quite at the command of the descend¬ 
ing person, \y .iO is to hold the rope in his hand, and 
by letting it slip more or less he can easily regulate 
his descent. 

The fire-escapes used by the royal society for the 
protection of life from fire in England, and which 
have been found better adapted for the purpose than 














































































































































































FIGHTING FIRE WITH WATER AND STEAM. (345 

any of the others which they have tried, consist of 
a main ladder 32 to 35 feet in length, mounted on a 
spring carriage, with large traveling wheels. To 
the under side of the carriage is affixed a canvas 
trough or bagging of stout sail cloth, protected 
externally by a copper wire netting, leaving sufficient 
space between for the yielding of the canvas in a 
person’s descent. The addition of the wire netting 
has always been found useful, as, although not afford¬ 
ing an entire protection against the canvas burning, 
it in most cases avails’, and prevents the possibility of 
anyone falling through. The soaking of this canvas 
in alum and other solutions has never Jbeen omitted, 
but this, while preventing its flaming, cannot preclude 
the risk of accident from the fire charring the canvas. 
A folding ladder, about 20 feet long, is jointed to the 
main ladder about 10 feet from the top, and is raised 
when required for use by ropes attached to projecting 
iron levers. By a very simple arrangement this fold¬ 
ing ladder can be instantly detached from the main 
ladder and jointed to a 16 feet ladder (for first floors) 
for use in courts and places where the machine itself 
cannot be taken. The first floor ladder is carried 
suspended beneath the canvas trough. A short 
length of ladder is provided to fit on to the end of 
the folding ladder, when a greater height has to be 
reached, or the first floor ladder can be so applied, 
which gives an elevation of nearly 60 feet. In order 
to strengthen the main ladder, an adjustable wire 
rope truss has lately been introduced, and found 
highly advantageous for its purpose. The main 
ladder usually commands all second floor windows, 
the folding ladder at the same time communicating 
with the third floor or the roof. 



FIRE ESCAPE TRUCK. (Extended.) 









































































































FIGHTING FIRE WITH WATER AND STEAM. 04 ^ 

When the folding ladder is raised, a wicket gate 
at its lower end opens to give access to the second 
floor and to the canvas trough. By sliding down 
the canvas trough, any person can easily and safely 8 
reach the ground, all that is required being to spread 
/out the limbs so as to regulate the descent and guard 
against its being too rapid; or the ladders themselves 
may be used as a means of descending. In traveling, 
the machine is balanced and guided by means of 
the carriage lever, and on reaching a fire is placed 
against the building at such an inclination as will 
best suit the height of the windows to be “ worked.’’ 
The weight of one of these escapes is nine cwts. A 
larger size, capable of reaching or “throwing” to a 
height of 80 feet, to be used in those districts where 
a higher class of buildings exist, is also made. 

The fire-escapes constructed within a few years, 
and submitted to public inspection, are almost innu¬ 
merable, some being calculated to be used by the 
individual himself in escaping, and others by the 
assistance of persons from without. The Society of 
Arts has given numerous premiums to ingenious per¬ 
sons for the construction of machines having the 
desired object in view. Sometimes the machine 
consisted of a series of ladders, sliding—telescope 
fashion—into one another, and supported by a plat¬ 
form beneath; sometimes a car, in which the person 
w T as to take his seat, and was to be lowered down a 
ladder by means of pulleys; sometimes a chair or 
settee was so constructed that when a person got into 
it from a window the chair would gently descend to 
the ground. In one case a premium was paid for a 
kind of rope ladder, of which the rounds were so 
made as to be fitted to each other longitudinally, and 


G48 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


elevated from the street in the form of a long, 
straight rod, but without being detached from the 
ropes framing the two sides of the ladder; two hooks 
at the top of the apparatus were to be fastened to 
the window-sill, while a jerk at the bottom unfixed 
all the rounds from their vertical position, and allowed 
them to fall into their proper places. 

But it is surprising—or rather perhaps it is not 
surprising—how few lives have been saved by any 
of these contrivances. The truth is, that most such 
require too much adjustment at the critical moment 
when their services are wanted; either they are in 
the hands and under the management of those who 
are too much agitated to do them justice, or they 
have to be brought from a distance, and to undergo 
a long process of adjustment. 



HOSE COUPLING. 


























CHAPTER XLII. 

% 

SAFES AND BANK VAULTS. 

Wealth and what it Consisted of in Old Times.—The Modern Commer¬ 
cial System and its Effect upon the Evidences of Value.—The Strong 
Box of Antiquity.—History of Safe Making.—Plaster of Paris as a Fire¬ 
proof Filling, and How it came to be Discovered.—Other Mixtures 
Capable of Resisting Fire, and their Merits.—Water in Combination.— 
Steam Safes.—Improvement Recently Made.—Locks and the Electro 
Magnetic Detector.—How Fire and Burglar-proof Safes are Made 
Now.—Bank Vaults.—Their Construction and Use.—The Vaults of the 
Stock Exchange, of Brown Brothers, &c.—The Value of Safes.—A 
Visit to the Safe Manufacturers.—Thrilling Incidents of the Boston 
Fire.—Opening of a Red-hot Safe.—“Thank Godl My Fortune is 
Saved.”—Song of the Fire Champion. 


IRE-PROOF safes are among the latest results 
y of the commercial system of the Nineteenth 
Century. 

In ancient times wealth consisted prin¬ 
cipally of land, cattle, gold and silver and 
precious stones, while in modern times per¬ 
sonal property consists largely of paper representa¬ 
tive of value, such as stocks, bonds, notes, bank bills, 
&c. The wealth of the community has also largely 
increased; the holders of individual wealth in a 
still greater ratio; and a man can carry in a small 

(649) 



9 



G50 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


box, or even in his pocket, an amount of wealth in the 
shape of evidences of value which in former times 
would have required many wagons to convey. 

To guard against the loss of papers and vouchers 
of value has long engaged the thoughts and taxed the 
ingenuity of some of the most active minds, and it 
has resulted in giving to the world, through the various 
stages of invention, receptacles for the safe keeping 
of books and'papers, that has culminated in the beau¬ 
tifully finished and highly ornamented fire-proof safes 
of the present day. 

Originally safes were made of thick oak plank, sat¬ 
urated with a strong alkali, and covered with thick 
sheet-iron, over which were strong bands of iron, into 
which huge knob-nails were driven, forming the strong¬ 
holds which many of us used to look upon as impreg¬ 
nable. 

These formidable looking chests will be recollected 
as the strong-box or safe of the merchants’ counting 
room in the olden times. They, indeed, have almost 
passed away; yet, singular enough, the theory upon 
which these wooden “ fire-proofs ” were first made has 
been the theory upon which iron safe manufacturers 
have from that time to this been constantly building* 

Although it may seem strange that wood was ever 
used as a fire-proof protector .in safes, yet it must be 
borne in mind that the original plan was to prepare 
the wood for this purpose before applying it to the 
safe. It is well known that though v r ood is highly 
combustible, it is really a poor conductor of heat, and 
when protected from the atmosphere so as to prevent 
ignition it will transmit heat very slowly. Take, for 
example, a small piece of wood; apply to one side of 
it all the heat you choose; so long as the wood does 


i 


SAFES AND BANK VAULTS. 


651 


not ignite, of course you cannot burn paper through 
it. Wood thus used was found to bear a heat of 800° 
Fahrenheit before it charred. Iron or metals are di¬ 
rectly opposite in their nature. They resist combus¬ 
tion to a far greater extent, but more readily convey 
or conduct the heat through them. 

The original method of preparing wood as a lining 
or fire-proof filling for safes was to saturate or soak it 
with salt water or brine, and as the wood is a readv 
absorbent, having a great affinity for water, it retained 
this saturation for some time; consequently, when 
exposed to the fire, the wood gave out its moisture, 
the fiber charred in place of igniting, and combustion 
proceeded slowly. Alas for the safe-makers of those 
days, however; their work became their ruin! It 
was found in the course of time that saturation pro¬ 
duced decay, and in the lapse of a few years the fire¬ 
proof lining began to perish, and the wood became a 
mass of dry rot, liable almost to take fire by itself 
from spontaneous combustion. Some of these old 
chests are known to have taken fire when in this de¬ 
composed state through no agency but the near 
proximity of the counting-room stove. 

The next period in safe-making is now known as 
the plaster of Paris or cement age—the water, con¬ 
sidered as a necessity to retard the action of the fire, 
being this time retained by plaster or hydraulic 
cements, which, becoming hard and rock-like, were 
then supposed to be unchangeable. 

The discovery that led to the use of plaster of Paris 
for the filling of fire-proof safes was made in 1843, by 
Mr. Daniel Fitzgerald, who was engaged in working 
in that material. From washing his hands daily in a 
tin basin before he left his shop, the sediment formed 



052 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


from the plaster clinging to his hands gradually 
coated the inside of the basin, so that a thin surface 
of plaster, like enamel, hid the tin from view. One 
very cold day, he put water into the basin and set it on 
the stove to warm it; but after waiting a reasonable 
time, he was surprised to find it still cold. Supposing 
the fire needed an addition of fuel, he added the com¬ 
bustibles, and waited patiently for it to heat. To his 
astonishment, the temperature of the water remained 
unchanged. Observing the non-conducting properties 
of the plaster of Paris to heat, he patented the article 
as applied to the manufacture of fire-proof safes. 
When safes were first filled with plaster of Paris, the 
plaster was mixed with water and poured into the 
iron casings, setting firmly, and becoming hard with 
age; but in eight or ten years the moisture dried out 
of the plaster, causing it to lose its fire-proof qualities; 
whilst the iron casing that contained it became so 
corroded that, rusting inwardly, the strength of the 
iron was impaired, and often eaten through; whilst the 
dampness so penetrated the interior of the safe as to 
often mould the books and papers; and if the safe 
was left unopened for any length of time, it seriously 
affected the binding of the books, and would in time 
obliterate the ink with which they were written, and 
so seriously hazard the value of that which it was 
sought to keep in safety from the flames. 

Time, however, the great teacher, demonstrated 
that plaster of Paris without water as a protection from 
fire, is not much better than so much sand, and the mix¬ 
ture of water necessary to secure its non-conducting 
qualities would gradually evaporate or dry out, in 
which operation it oxydized the iron box in which it 
was confined. Thus, besides losing some of its fire- 


SAFES AND BANK VAULTS. 


653 

proof qualities with age, it also rusted, “or rotted 
out,” the iron of the safe in time, thereby always 
carrying within itself the seeds of its own destruc¬ 
tion. 

The plaster of Paris safe, or “Wilder patent of 
1843,” was simply plaster of Paris mixed with water, 
the fire-proof property consisting in the ability of the 
plaster to absorb and retain a large amount of water. 
While new and its effects upon the iron not suspected, 
it was the best thing known at that time. 

As experience developed its defects, and it became 
apparent that the water would gradually evaporate, 
causing the contents of the safe to mould and mildew 
and the iron of the outside to rust. 

Invention became again busy. Asbestos mixed 
with plaster of Paris, clay, mica, chalk, soap-stone, 
kaolin e or porcelain clay, marble dust, epsorn salts, 
hydraulic cement, wood-ashes and charcoal dust, and 
various other substances, have been tried, and each 
by turns had their advocates. 

Another plan consisted in using pure alumina, or 
mixed with fire clay; but pure alumina was found 
not to be as effective in withstanding heat as some 
mixture in which water was contained, either in com¬ 
bination as a paste or in the form of crystallization. 
The theory of this mixture was that when the safe 
was exposed to intense heat, the water in the mixture 
was given out and being converted into steam, 
absorbed the heat and prevented it from attacking 
the contents of the safe. 

In the year 1863 a composition of alum and dry 
plaster of Paris was patented as a fire-proof filling; 
the alum containing, by chemical analysis, fifty-five 
per cent, of pure water, is put in, in small lumps, 


654 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


thoroughly mixed with the powdered calcined plaster 
of Paris. This mixture is packed between the inner 
and outer cases of the safe, where it will remain 
unchanged (so it is claimed) any number of years, 
except when subjected to heat. 

At the time of fire the alum is melted and steam 
produced in a sufficient quantity to preserve all books 
and papers, and immediately set the plaster into a 
hard wall. By placing a lump of alum on a heated 
stove, any one can readily see the amount of water 
produced. 

In many kinds of business, such as jewelers and 
others, the entire stock of goods, being valuable, is 
kept in a safe; and the value of a dry safe which can 
be kept closed for weeks and months at a time with¬ 
out damaging the goods, or discoloring them, is self- 
apparent. 

Croton water safes were also talked of; these to be 
made stationary, and the water to be let on by the 
burning of a string or the melting of a soft cement 
faucet on the approach of heat. But these were only 
partial remedies, and experience has proved that they 
w T ere not Reliable in accidental fires. Premiums were 
offered for fire-proof fillings, and the result has been 
a steady and constant improvement in fire-proof pro¬ 
tectors where properly made. 

Water itself boils at 212 degrees, and is soon dissi¬ 
pated at a higher heat. It is not so much the 
quantity of moisture that is required to keep out heat 
in a safe as the quality. It is not the material which will 
hold the most water that is best for fire-proof filling, 
but one that will hold its peculiar moisture the longest 
when operated against by accidental fires. 


SAFES AND BANK VAULTS. 055 

v. 

Many very excellent safes are now made with a 
filling composed of the residuum of soda fountains. 

It is well known that the production of certain at¬ 
mospheres are antagonistic to heat, and in the 
presence of a certain air or gas no flame can live. 
The production of some of the best patent compo¬ 
sitions demonstrated that, though they did not secrete 
so much moisture, yet they were more slowly evapor¬ 
ated or driven out by fire than any other compound 
heretofore known, and the more recent improvements 
patented have proved that a fire-proof filling for safes 
may be produced that is perfectly dry and unchange¬ 
able until the fire attacks it, which will not dampen 
or mould books and papers, will not corrode or rust 
the iron of the safes, and does uot dry out or lose 
any of its fire-proof qualities from evaporation in a 
warm room. In place of boiling at 212°—the boiling 
point of water—its fumes are noticeable at the red 
heat of iron (1,000°),' and the fire-proof lining being a 
double sulphate, produces an atmosphere in which, so 
long as it lasts, no flame can exist. 

Water and steam safes are now made in the follow¬ 
ing manner: First the frame is set up and filled in 
with wrought iron and steel plates. Next comes the 
filling of hydraulic cement. Then a layer of flat gal¬ 
vanized sheet iron boxes, filled with water; from each 
of these boxes a small pipe projects, sealed with 
soft solder; the heat melts this solder and the water 
is converted into steam, which interposes itself as a 
barrier asrainst the fire. 

O r 

Great improvements have been made in the locks 
of safes. Formerly security was sought for in having 
keys of a peculiar make, but the most approved safes 
now have combination locks of 125,000 to 100,000,- 


656 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


000 changes, a selection of numbers on the clial-plate 
of the lock, known only to the owner, being proof 
against the curiosity of meddlers or the cupidity of 
thieves. The best safes are now made of heavy plate- 
iron, with heavy refined iron-frame, welded with angle 
iron corners, strongly bolted. 

An electro pneumatic protector for safes and vaults, 
has been lately invented, the details of which we 
have not space to give, but the practical value of 
which will be obvious when we say that it is simply 
impracticable to come at a safe or vault guarded by 
one of these protectors, even by an aperture so large 
as a pin, without starting an electrical alarm, which 
may be placed inside or outside the building, or at a 
remote police station, or in any place or position that 
may be desired. It is not only a burglar protector, 
but it is a fire protector as well, and will sound an 
alarm if the heat of the room in which it is, is raised 
to an undue temperature. 

With the increased growth of our cities and towns, 
and constantly increasing size of our mercantile ware¬ 
houses, we require more than ever the best and 
strongest safes. Iron columns, iron beams, and iron 
girders are fast displacing wooden ones in our modem 
buildings, and in the conflagrations these falling 
masses of iron need more than common safes to ward 
their heavy blows. 

Having this important requirement in view, many 
improvements have been made in the strength and 
mechanism of the work. Besides improved beauty 
of finish, the safe is made of wrought iron and much 
heavier than heretofore. The frames are manufac¬ 
tured from the best refined wrought iron, and are 
welded (not matched) together. The corners are 


SAFES AND BANK VAULTS. 


657 


solid, of the best wrought angle-iron, in place of 
matched bars or cast-iron corners. The body of the 
safe is made of alternate plates of wrought iron, 
Welded iron, and steel. Some of the best safes are 
made of wrought iron, Bessemer and Chrome cast- 
steel welded together, and of Franklinite, which give 
greater security against burglars. Safes are also 
made of great thickness and strength, in order to 
secure them from being shattered in falling from top 
stories. In the late great Boston fire a safe fell from 
an upper story and in falling struck an iron column 
on which it was impaled, and hung; the fire soon 
found its way through the aperture thus made and 
completely gutted the safe. 

Increased thickness of fire-proof filling, improved 
strength and weight of metal, and improved patterns, 
will yet furnish the public with that great de¬ 
sideratum, an almost perfect fire-proof safe. 

But while fire-proof safes have been brought to a 
comparatively satisfactory completion, the manufacture 
of safes that could resist the assaults of experienced 
burglars provided with all the appliances of modern 
tools and scientific aids, has been a problem which has 
baffled, and, until recently, has overcome the most in¬ 
tricate and elaborate combinations of iron and steel 
welded together with all the skill and art man has 
known how to devise. 

The advance made in the manufacture of metals 
has been more than met by the ingenious devices of 
rogues to undo the same; so that it has become a 
proverb that “Whatever man can make, man can 
unmake; ” or, to put it more properly, burglars who 
are experts, armed with the necessary tools and left 
undisturbed for a sufficient length of time, will open 

39 


658 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


any safe, vault, or stronghold; the services of a good 
watchman are indispensable to the preservation of 
any great amount of treasure, in addition to all the 
safe-guards that bolts and locks can give. In fact, 
only about twelve hours of uninterrupted labor from 
a gang of burglars—the number usually confederat¬ 
ing for such a purpose being four, of whom one is 
l$ft to keep watch and give the alarm, if necessary; 
one holding the dark lantern to work by, whilst the 
other two engage actively in work—are sufficient to 
destroy nearly all that is now known of security 
to banks; and only such places as the sub-treasury 
and other public depositories, on which sums have 
been spent much greater than ordinary banking insti¬ 
tutions would be willing to incur, can withstand a 
much longer ordeal. To obtain this additional se¬ 
curity many banks now employ outside as well as in¬ 
side watchmen, besides seeking to expose to the gaze 
of every passer-by a well-lighted interior at night; but 
such is the weakness of human nature, and the liability 
of men whose capacity restricts them to a life of 
wearisome monotony during the hours when all nature 
is hushed to rest, that, lured by the temptations that 
are spread before them,' combinations are often formed 
and conspiracies entered into with these faithless guar¬ 
dians by which the inside man has been found some¬ 
times willingly gagged and bound when a discovery 
of loss has been made, and the outside man who was 
suddenly taken sick in the middle of the night whilst 
on his beat and compelled to go home, or was turned 
away by some female decoy from his post (for their 
habits are well studied in planning an attack), has 
caused such distrust, even of the best men, that a 
third inspector is employed to watch the other two, 



INTERIOR OF RAND & AVERY’S FIRE PROOF VAULT. 

(This Vault contained Plates valued at over one million dollars, and saved its contents perfectly.) 
































































































































































































SAFES AND BANK VAULTS. 


661 

and during the darkest and stormiest nights, especially 
in the interval between Saturday evening and Monday 
morning, when the most frequented places of business 
are nearly deserted, and which offers such an uninter¬ 
rupted field for difficult work on the part of the bur- 
glai, does the cashier himself sometimes, or some 
other bank official, deprive himself of sleep to make 
sure that all is well. Modern science has, however, 
put an end to so much solicitude and perplexity. The 
two great objects to be secured in the manufacture 
of safes is: first, to make them fire-proof; and, second, 
to make them proof against burglars. 

High and low steel are welded together of superior 
hardness and strength to form the outside of the safe, 
with thick iron plates to resist the drill and blow-pipe, 
while the most effective tools in the hands of the bur¬ 
glars to day are wedges, nitro-glycerine, gunpowder, 
jimmies, jack-screws, drills, and oxy-hydrogen blow¬ 
pipes, which last are used to soften the steel employed 
in the construction of safes. There are but few safes 
now made that are really protected against, viz : 

Wedges! Nitro-glycerine! and Gunpowder! 

These bank safes are made with solid welded anode 
frames outside; the exterior is smooth, presenting no 
cracks or joints that will be affected by the wedge; 
all the corners are solid and no joint extends through 
the chest. A strong tongue is fixed all around the 
door, projecting from its inner surface. A similar 
tongue is made on the jambs of the safe against which 
the door closes ; this tongue is made to fit inside of the 
tongue projecting from the inside surface of the doors 
so as to form a groove or channel all around the door¬ 
way to receive the projecting tongue on the door; 


662 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


so that when the cloor is closed with the patent hinge, 
it keys the whole structure, and the sides cannot be 
made to spring or bulge from the edges of the door 
by driving in wedges or use of screw power. In these 
grooves is placed a Patent Rubber Packing, making an 
air-tight joint which prevents the introduction of any 
liquid combustible as well as fine powder. Conical 
bolts are also employed, a shaft throwing the door 
bolts of all the locks. 

Some of these fire and burglar-proof bank vaults in 
New York and other of our large cities are well worth 
visiting. They are strong enough and gloomy enough 
to rival the prisons of the dark ages. Says the author 
of “Ten Years in Wall Street:” “Beneath the Stock 
Exchange there are dungeons for the confinement, 
not of men, but of money. The resources of art have 
been exhausted to make these dungeons secure. Hun¬ 
dreds of safes built of huge granite blocks lined with 
chilled iron and tempered steel and closed with treble 
patent locks, are ranged in long rows in the dim gas 
light and guarded day and night by trusty w T atchmen 
sitting behind grated bars. Here is more wealth laid 
away than in any other depository on the hemisphere.” 

In these vaults, there are between six and seven 
hundred safes. The vaults themselves are formed of 
heavy blocks of granite lined with thick wrought iron 
plates; inside of these are fixed the safes for holding 
stocks, bonds, and other valuables. 

Somewhat different in plan from this is the bank 
vault of the well-knov T n Anglo-American banking 
house of Brown Brothers in Wall street. Here there 
are massive granite blocks to form the outside shell; 
inside of these a fire and burglar proof safe is built; 
inside of this a double fire and burglar proof safe, 


SAFES AND BANK VAULTS. QQ3 

which is hoisted out every day into the office of the 
firm and hoisted back at night. 

The Stuyvesant Safe Deposit Company has a bank 
vault with all the latest improvements, besides other 
companies which we* have not space to mention. 

The danger from burglaries in our great cities and 
larger towns is an ever-present one, and it behooves 
bank officers and trustees of property to give the sub¬ 
ject of safes a careful consideration, while the immense 
and ever-increasing number of fires that annually oc¬ 
cur all over the United States, and the consequent de¬ 
struction of many valuable sets of books, papers relat¬ 
ing to business, and other evidences of debt and value, 
the loss of which renders men incapable of securing 
themselves against the tide of adversity, make the 
prudent and thoughtful devise, by every means in 
their power, to secure themselves against all possible 
harm from the devouring element of fire. 

If the reader will visit any of the great manufac¬ 
tories of safes he will see the ruins of many of these 
boasted chests which have been subjected to the in¬ 
tense and long-continued heat of some great conflagra¬ 
tion. The sides of these chests are warped and 
twisted, showing wide seams through which the flames 
have darted and reduced the contents to fine cinders. 
Other chests he will see with the walls blackened, but 
erect and compact; the doors, still swinging on firm 
hinges, open and display in large letters the triumphant 

record of the victory over fire. 

One incident is related of the Boston Fire that v T ill 
prove better than any generalities the value of a good 
fire-proof safe. 

I- M - was a worthy mechanic of Boston^ 

who, finding himself in poor health and on the down 




6(i4 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


liill of life, sold out Ills business, collected the debts 
due him and deposited the proceeds, $7,000, the hard- 
earned competency of a life of honest toil, in the safe 
of a merchant in good standing. This was on Friday 
just before the fire broke out. On the following Mon¬ 
day he intended to remove the jmecious deposit and 
invest it judiciously for the support of his old age. 
Meanwhile he left town to visit a daughter in a country 
town. The news of the fire reached him on Sunday 
evening and he hurried back to the city only to find 
the store of his friend the merchant a pile of smoking 
ruins and the safe whelmed beneath a mass of red-hot 
bricks and stones. 

The reader may picture to himself the heart-rending 
anxiety and the agony endured for the ensuing forty- 
eight hours by the unfortunate man. Streams of wa¬ 
ter poured for two days and nights upon the smoulder¬ 
ing debris at last cooled the mass, and the safe, all 
battered and blackened, was hoisted out. A safe 
maker was summoned, and after much difficulty, suc¬ 
ceeded in wrenching open the first door. The second 
door was still sealed and held firmly, the secret of 
weal or of woe to the agonized man. His feelings 
became too strong for him to bear. He tottered 
through the sympathizing crowd which had collected 
and knew his story, and at length reaching a brick 
wall left standing amid the ruins, he leaned against it, 
covering his face with his hands, waiting in a kind of 
stupor to know the worst. Hark! he hears a loud 
crack, then a shout, and he sees beaming faces approach. 
He trembles in every limb, kind hands half lead him, 
half bear him to the spot. He sees a package held in 
the hand of the safe man, who smiles as he leans upon 
his sledge hammer. It is his precious deposit, the 


SAFES AND BANK VAULTS. 005 

smell of fire was not on it—saved, thank God! out 
of the flames. 

SONG OF THE FIRE-CHAMPION. 

“ Yes! well may ye gaze on my iron sides, 

And well may ye murmur praise; 

Like a victor mailed I have safely passed 
Through the thunder and the blaze 1 
On the hero’s brow ye may bind the palm, 

To his fame ye will sound the lyre; 

Then how refuse a wreath to the power 
That has conquered the Fiend of Fire ? 

Ha, ha! how I laughed when the demon flames 
That had swept from roof to floor 
Threw their wild, red arms around my waist, 

And howled before my door! 

For the gorgeous wealth they had shriveled up 
Wherever their red feet pressed 
Was nought to the wealth that they knew I held 
In the folds of my fearless breast. 

The merchant gazed, in his terror white, 

When he saw them around me curled, 

When at last the crackling beams and walls 
Were over me wildly hurled; 

Hut I thrilled next morn to behold his joy— 

Ay! thrilled with an honest pride— 

When he opened my door and found the deed 
And the bill safe side by side! 

' For the brain that evoked my being sought 
The secrets from sea and earth, 

And together bound their glorious powers 
Before I could leap to birth. 

Like the gems that the jealous genii guard, 

In the depths of the deep-blue sea, 

Those secrets were hid from the eye of man 
Before they were joined in me! 

Then well may ye gaze on my iron side 
And well may ye murmur praise; 

Like a victor mailed, I have safely passed 
Through the thunder and the blaze! 

On the hero’s brow ye will bind the palm, 

To his fame ye will sound the lyre; 

Then how refuse a wreath to the power 
That has conquered the Fiend of Fire ? ” 


CHAPTER XLIII. 


FIRE PROOF BUILDINGS. 


The Mania for Tinder Boxes.—Catering to the Appetite of the Fire 
Fiend.—A Word of Caution.—Nothing Absolutely Indestructible by 
Fire.—Action of the Devouring Element upon Ordinary Materials.— 
“Fire-proof” Buildings as Blast Furnaces.—Stone, Iron, and Brick 
under the Flames.—Proof of a Physical Axiom.—History of Fire¬ 
proof Buildings.—How the Architects of Old Home and of the Middle 
Ages went to Work.—Fire-proofing in England.—The Principal Diffi¬ 
culty and Danger of such Structures.—Examination of Materials in 
Detail.—Brick, Stone, and Iron; which is the Best?—The Nearest 
Approach to a Fire-proof Building.—The Mansard Roof as a Tinder 
Box, and its Proper Construction.—The Water Shield in the Walls of 
Buildings. 



F late years many plans have been patented 
C J[ M Ik or brought forward, either for making build- 


y ings fire-proof or diminishing their liability 
to catch fire, each more or less adapted to 


purpose; but as a rule it will be found 


that few of them have been generally em- 



The present inordinate desire to construct such 
lofty piles of building as are seen to be springing up 
in all directions, in the large cities especially, is, unfor¬ 
tunately, anything but conducive to safety from fire 





FIRE PROOF BUILDINGS. 00 ^ 

or a means of diminishing its fatal effects when it does 
break out. The notion of a building being fire-proof 
because non inflammable materials are employed in 
its construction, is a fatal error, and one which, sooner 
or later, cannot fail to give unanswerable proofs of 
how little security is afforded by them whilst used on 
the present system. 

When such a building catches fire, and the flames 
once get a hold, the power of any fire engine now 
used, whether hand or steam, will be found of little or 
no avail to conquer them ; and the difficulty that will 
be found in projecting water with sufficient force to 
do good on the top portions will prove that, unless far 
greater attention be paid to the contingencies sure to 
arise and prevent its being so exactly protected in 
case of fire as might be desired, or a most careful and 
efficient system of water supply and fire extinguishing 
arrangements be carried out, which, it should be ob¬ 
served, ought to be on a system entirely independent 
of any assistance from the general system of serving 
the town, the total destruction of it and its contents is 
an inevitable consequence. 

There can be no doubt that if the buildings were 
more carefully and solidly constructed, there would be 
far fewer fires, especially in dwelling-houses; the 
“ vices of construction,” as they are termed by the 
French, being so great as to call for more effective 
legislation on the subject. The rage for "cheapness,” 
as " low price ” is erroneously termed, leads to a flim¬ 
sy and rattletrap style of building, which more than 
anything conduces to make the results of a fire more 
disastrous, and the destruction of the premises more 
total. The slender walls, slight partitions, ginger¬ 
bread floors and roofs, especially the Mansard roof of 


6G8 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


slate and wood, and the ill-fitting doors and windows, 
are all of so slight a character that they form a mass 
of material easy to kindle, and when once kindled, 
sure to be quickly destroyed. If they escape the 
ravages of fire, it is pretty certain that they will 
soon fall down of themselves; and it seems highly 
probable than in another fifty years, half of the 
“ villa ” erections now so much in vogue, especially in 
newly settled places, will be in this predicament; and 
it is to be hoped that posterity will prosper by the op¬ 
portunity then afforded to construct buildings of a 
more substantial and lasting character. 

It is an axiom of physics that no one substance is 
actually indestructible by fire. The difference be¬ 
tween substances in that respect being one of degree 
and of the circumstances under which it is placed 
rather than one of kind. 

A material which under one condition will be little 
injured by fire, will under another be totally de¬ 
stroyed. It therefore becomes a point to be carefully 
considered as to which is the projDer position for, and 
the condition under which each or all materials used 
in the construction of buildings should be employed. 

An immense amount both of thought and money 
have been expended in the construction of buildings 
which have been supposed to be fire-proof and unin¬ 
flammable, but the result has been quite unsatis¬ 
factory. 

The great fires of history have taught us that no 
safety from the destructive ravages of fire has been 
or can be obtained by the use of the most uninflam¬ 
mable materials for building purposes unless some 
other modes of employing them be adopted than those 
hitherto used. In fact some of the most tremendous 


FIRE PROOF BUILDINGS. 


G69 


and disastrous conflagrations of late years have either 
originated in or extended to these so-called “fire¬ 
proof” structures; and as in these the most valuable 
goods and materials have been stored, on account of 
the assumed security afforded thereby, the losses 
have been correspondingly heavy in almost every 
instance. 

When these buddings, even those the most scientifi¬ 
cally and expensively constructed, are, when on fire, 
once allowed to “ get out of hand,” as it may be 
termed, their destruction and that of their contents is 
inevitable. The stones crack and crumble with the 
intense heat; the iron beams push or pull everything 
down ; the brick arches fall to pieces; concrete is no¬ 
where ; thus in practice, it is found that in a very 
short period, unless the most lavish supply of water 
and powerful and efficient means of throwing it on 
the burning materials are quickly and readily avail¬ 
able at the earliest moment the fire is discovered, the 
whole mass becomes a huge undistinguishable heap of 
burning and smoking ruins. 

The desirability and importance of fire-proof con¬ 
struction, especially from a commercial point of view, 
cannot for a moment be desired; but a great de¬ 
sideratum also in the usual parlance “ from a com¬ 
mercial point of view,” is that it should be “ cheap; ” 
whilst practically, it should in addition, be possessed 
of those of being thoroughly efficient and easily ap-. 
plicable to buildings of all kinds. 

These “fire-proof” buildings, as at present con¬ 
structed, are invariably found, in case of catching to 
“hold” the fire, and by this means render their total 
destruction, and that of their contents, a dread cex> 
tainty; and that they are to all intents and purposes 


670 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


most effective a blast furnaces ” whenever they, or 
rather their contents, unfortunately become ignited, 
the result being, as before described, the complete 
demolition of the structure, and the entire destruction 
of the contents. 

It is worthy of remark that floor cloth factories— 
the inflammable character of whose contents is well 
known—are generally built of wood, as it is con¬ 
sidered far better for the entire building and contents 
originally ignited to be destroyed than by making 
them “ fire proof,” and of a nature calculated to hold 
the fire, to run thereby the risk of burning a whole 
neighborhood. 

The mode in which a building is constructed should 
be dependent on the nature of the materials em¬ 
ployed : if they are decided on in the first instance, 
the effect produced on these materials by fire, or the 
water employed to extinguish the fire, if it or its 
contents should at any time become ignited, and the 
substances to be stored therein. If, on the other 
hand, a mode or plan of construction be decided upon, 
then the materials employed, their position in the 
building, and their plan of application, should be 
guided thereby. 

Iron, as at present applied, is found to bend and 
twist in a most extraordinary manner when exposed 
to the action of fire, and it matters but little whether 
it be wrought or cast, both being subject to the same 
operation; but cast iron has the additional disadvan¬ 
tage of being liable to crack and break when exposed 
in a heated state to the influence of a stream of cold 
water. These peculiarities will show that their posi¬ 
tion in a building should be such as to render the 
mischief caused by them as small as possible, and 


FIRE PROOF BUILDINGS. 


G71 


prevent tlie additional damage from their expansion, 
construction, and twisting, increasing the loss caused 
by the lire itself. 

Stone is peculiarly liable to split and fly when 
exposed to heat, and this is not decreased, when it is 
in a heated state, by the access of cold water. 

The more combustible the character of the <roods 
to be stored in a building the more incombustible 
should be its construction, and the more homogeneous 
the character of the material employed. It is advis¬ 
able to avoid the use of iron columns, whether cast 
or wrought, as supports in such a building; and if 
brick is used, then it should be of the best quality, 
and put together in the most substantial manner. 
Stone is objectionable, unless coated with some non¬ 
conducting material, which should be thick enough 
to withstand a great degree of heat, and adhesive 
enough not to scale off when exposed to it. Expe¬ 
rience has shown that stone and cast iron, unless 
protected by some incombustible substance, are not 
fit for fire-proof buildings—the stone splitting, crack¬ 
ing, and crumbling under the combined action of 

O' O 

heat and water, and the iron expanding, twisting, 
melting, or cracking under the same circumstances. 

Iron, whether wrought or cast, constantly melts 
when forming parts of buildings destroyed by large 
conflagrations. In cases of sugar-houses and ware¬ 
houses this frequently happens, and in all instances 
where iron has not been thus destroyed it has suffered 
materially. 

The recent disastrous conflagrations of Chicago and 
Boston appear to have established the fact that brick¬ 
work, better than all other ordinary materials, resists 
the action of fire. But even brickwork, unless of 


G72 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


very substantial character, stands but little chance 
when exposed to the intense and long-continued heat 
met with in large fires. The mortar crumbles out, 
the walls bulge and crack, and the material crumbles 
to dust, and, as it were, melts away, infallibly bringing 
down the best part of the structure in which this 
stuff is employed, and exposed to the action of the 
fire. 

These are, w^e must confess, gloomy and dishearten¬ 
ing views, both for property owners and insurance 
companies. The question naturally arises how and 
under what conditions can we employ those materials 
which are most capable of resisting the action of 
heat. 

A great variety of materials have been adopted. 

The plan of making buildings fire-proof is not of 

modern origin. The architects of Old Rome, and 

those of the middle ages, attempted to attain this in 

the public buildings they erected, by using stone 

with groined roofs of the same material and brick 

arches. The necessity of rendering such buildings 

fire proof in old times was, however, not so pressing 

as that which prevails under our modern civilization, 

in which elaborate apparatus is used for the purpose 

of heating buildings. 

o o 

Among the plans suggested in more recent times 
for rendering buildings less liable to destruction by 
fire we may note the following :— 

Some eighty ^years ago, Dr. Hales, of England, 
proposed to check the progress of fires by covering 
the floors of the adjoining rooms with earth. The 
proposal is founded on an experiment which he made 
with a fir board half an inch thick, part of which he 
covered with an inch depth of damp garden mould, 


FIRE PROOF BUILDINGS. 


673 


and then lighted a fire on the surface of the mould. 
Though the tire was kept up by blowing, it was two 
hours before the board was burnt through, and the 
earth prevented it from blazing. The thicker the 
earth is lnid on the floors the better. However, Dr. 
Hales apprehends that the depth of an inch will 
generally be sufficient, and he recommends to lay 
a deeper covering on the stairs, because the fire 
commonly ascends by them with the greatest 
velocity. 

Mr. David Hartley made several trials in the years 
1775 and 1776, in order to evince the efficiency of 
a method which he had invented for restraining the 
spread of fire in buildings. For this purpose thin 
iron plates were well nailed to the tops of the joists, 
&c., the edges of the sides and ends being lapped 
over, folded together, and hammered close. Parti¬ 
tions, stairs, and floors may be defended in the same 
manner, and plates applied to one side have been 
found sufficient. The plates are so thin as not to 
prevent the floor from being nailed on the joists, in 
the same manner as if this preventive was not used; 
they are kept from rust by being painted or varnished 
with oil and turpentine. The expense of this addi¬ 
tion, when extending through a whole building, is 
reckoned at about five per cent. Mr. Hartley had a 
patent for this invention, and parliament voted a sum 
of money towards defraying the expense of his 
numerous experiments. 

The same preservative may also be applied to 
ships, furniture, &c. Mr. Hartley’s patent has long 

since expired. 

The Earl Stanhope of that period also proposed a 
method, but this consisted in coating various parts 


G74 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


of a house with a thick layer of a peculiar cement 
impervious to flame. 

The present century has witnessed similar plans in 
abundance, of which we may allude to one proposed 
by Mr. London:—“ In rendering houses fire-proof 
the next important object to using fire-proof mate¬ 
rials is that of having all the walls and partitions, and 
even the steps of wooden staircases, filled in with 
such materials as will render them in effect solid. 
On examining into the causes of the rapidity of the 
spread of the flames in London houses when on fire, 
it will almost invariably be found that whatever may 
have occasioned the fire to break out, the rapidity of 
its progress has been in proportion to the greater 
or less extent of the lath and plaster partitions, the 
hollow wooden floors, and the wooden staircases.” 
His proposition is to fill up all the vacuities behind 
such places with powdered earth or sand. 

These and similar plans are merely approximations 
towards the solution of the problem. The fact still 
remains that a so-called fire-proof building , surrounded 
wholly or partially by adjoining buildings , which are 
not “fireproof'f will be almost sure to go if a great 
conflagration occurs. Let fire-proof buildings be 
' erected in blocks instead of being single and in the 
midst of adjoining buildings which are non-fireproof 
Something might be done if the different property 
holders in each block would work together in accom¬ 
plishing this result. When a city has been swept by 
a great conflagration, then is the time for property 
holders to act in concert, &nd by erecting fire-proof 
buildings in blocks, help to protect the city against 
future disasters of a similar kind. 


FIRE PROOF BUILDINGS. 


675 


In erecting a fire-proof building the first question 
is, what materials shall be employed; the second ques¬ 
tion is, how they shall be employed. The materials 
are:— 

1. Bricks that are well made, of the proper kind of 
clay (and in chimneys fire-bricks), cemented together 
with mortar specially prepared to resist the action of 
fire. Brick is believed to be the best fire-proof ma¬ 
terial. Probably the most secure structure known is 
one whose floors are formed of brick arches on brick 
supports. In the cellars of a building thus vaulted 
with brick in London, the oil with which they were 
filled took fire and continued burning for weeks, a 
glowing sea of flame; yet after it was over, the struc¬ 
ture was found to be uninjured. 

2. Stone that is homogeneous, compact, and 
tenacious in its structure. Different kinds of stone 
possess different degrees of resistibility to fire. 

Place a block of marble in an intense fire and it 
will become quicklime. 

Sandstone will, under the same circumstances, dis¬ 
integrate and become sand or crumble into small 
pieces. 

Granite will also disintegrate or crack, especially 
when water falls upon it while heated. Trap rock, 
such as is used for street pavements, forms a very 
tough stone for building, though rarely used. 

Building stones of the several kinds above speci¬ 
fied, vary in their capacity for resisting fire, one kind 
of marble, sandstone, or granite being much more suitr 
able than another. The .builder himself should possess 
some knowledge of geology so that he may under¬ 
stand the geological conditions under which a particu¬ 
lar kind of stone has been formed in the course of ages, 
40 


676 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


because it is upon those conditions that the character 
of the rock largely depends. 

The expansive and contractile nature of stone has 
• also an important bearing upon the use of differ¬ 
ent kinds of building material. Tables have been 
made for the use of architects, showing the rate of 
expansion of different stones. 

3. Iron which should be wrought, and not cast-iron, 
since the latter cracks and melts under the influence 
of heat. The objections to wrought iron are of an¬ 
other kind. Though it does not crack and rarely and 
with great difficulty melts, it is liable to bend, twist, 
and become warped when subjected to intense heat. 
It will also expand. An iron bar sixty-six feet long 
at 32° will become when raised to 212°, one inch 
longer; a greater degree of heat causes it to expand 
still more. Nothing can resist this expansion. The con¬ 
sequences are obvious. When the iron columns and 
and beams of a building are heated they tend to lift 
or depress the floors and thrust out or pull in the 
walls with a force that is irresistible. The lateral 
pressure thus produced may perhaps be avoided by 
letting the beams clear through the walls, and the 
perpendicular pressure by providing against that in 
erecting the building. 

One of the large iron builders has recently invented 
a new support for buildings. It consists of a wrought 
iron column of strength sufficient to sustain the re¬ 
quired weight, and outside of that, another column, 
the space between the two being filled with plaster of 
Paris, as in the case of fire-proof safes. The inside 
column is thus protected against the action of fire by 
the outside column and the interposed jacket of 
plaster of Paris. 


FIRE PROOF BUILDINGS. 


677 


The danger in this contrivance, we should say, was 
the liability of the iron to be corroded and eaten 
away in the course of time by the action of the 
plaster. The same thing has been found true of 
safes. A coating may perhaps be applied to the 
columns which will retard the corrosive action of the 

The nearest approach to an absolutely fire-proof 
building is one constructed of stone, brick, and 
wrought iron, all properly selected and properly ap¬ 
plied to secure the end sought for. Superadd water- 
tanks upon the roof, so that the outside of the build¬ 
ing may be kept wet when a fire occurs in an 
adjoining building; moreover, let it be furnished with 
iron shutters, and you will be as nearly protected from 
the ravages as you can be by any human foresight. 
These buildings should be erected by the block and 
not singly as is usually the case, surrounded by 
inflammable materials. 

Notwithstanding the strenuous efforts that have been 
made to discourage the erection of Mansard roofs— 
that is, roofs with boards nailed on to wooden rafters, 
and covered with slate—the popular demand for them 
continues to multiply their number. When made of 
wood, as is generally the case, these roofs are nothing 
but tinder boxes. Their inclined sides render the 
upper story more liable to take fire than any other; 
and when the fire has once been communicated it is 
almost impossible to reach it, on account of the height, 
and the slate-sheathing which protects the flames from 
without. The objection to this faulty construction 
has been remedied by substituting for wooden rafters, 
beams of wrought iron, whose adaptability to this use 
we have observed elsewhere; and for the plank- 



FIGHTING FIRE. 


678 

sheathing, sheet-iron bent into dovetailed grooves, 
capable of holding plaster. The slate is bolted on the 
outside of this sheathing, and the underside is stiffened 
by iron. A roof is thus made without employing 
any combustible material whatever. 

The idea of using water in the walls of a building 
as a shield against fire has been often suggested. 
How far this is practicable remains to be seen. 

A new and curious invention consists in construct¬ 
ing the party-wall, or partition between the two 
houses or buildings, with a narrow chamber or cham¬ 
bers, to extend from the bottom to the top of such 
wall or partition, the lower part of said chambers 
having an induct pipe, B, which extends into the 
street and is connected with the street main, if the 
town or city is provided with water works, if not, the 
pipe is carried to a convenient spot for attaching the 
hose of a fire-engine or force pump. The hollow par¬ 
tition is constructed of iron, and can be a single cham¬ 
ber or a series of them communicating with each 
other. At the upper part of the chambers are 
provided a series of holes from which the water is 
projected, after the chambers are filled, if it is found 
necessary to do so. 

When two buildings are furnished with a water-tight 

o o 

hollow partition arranged between them, and provided 
with an inlet and outlet as described, it must be evident 
that so long as the spaces in the partition are kept 
filled with water, no fire, while in one building, can 
pass through the partition to the other, and that by 
forcing water into the partition at its lower part and 
discharging it at its top upon the roof, the roof will be 
protected from any fire that may come in contact 
with it. 


FIRE PROOF BUILDINGS. 


679 

The cost of putting up a building with the above 
improvement is much less than any other plan of 
equal security, and we are positive that the saving on 
premiums for insurance on buildings and their con¬ 
tents, that are constructed as described, will, in a 
short time, pay for its extra cost. 

The editor of the Boston Journal of Chemistry 
gives the following account of the effect of heat upon 
different materials during the recent great fire in 
that city:— 

“ The brick vault in which were deposited our 
account-books and valuable papers, was in the midst 
of the fiery furnace, and subjected to the full fury of 
the flames. 

Owing to the great heat, it could not be reached 
until five days after the fire, and when opened, the 
contents were found to be in most perfect condition. 
The safe was a brick structure, carried up from the 
ground through the basement, having two iron doors, 
the space between the outer and inner being fourteen 
inches. The doors were about three-eighths of an 
inch in thickness, and without transverse bars or bolts, 
or other fastenings, save one common lock. Appre¬ 
hensive that these frail iron doors would not withstand 
intense heat in case of fire, we directed the American 
Steam Safe Company, two years ago, to put upon the 
inside of both twelve copper reservoirs of water, each 
holding about a gallon. These were constructed after 
their pattern, being sealed with a fusible plug. 

On the night of the fire, just before the store was 
burned, several of the young men employed in the 
counting-room gained access to the Vault, opened it, 
and placed three wooden pails, filled with water, upon 
the floor; they then closed the inner door, and before 


680 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


locking the outer, placed two more pails fall of water 
in the space between the two. This was indeed a 
thoughtful act in a time of so much excitement. We 
expected not only that the wooden pails behind the 
first door would be burned, but those in the interior 
of the vault; and therefore great was our surprise to 
find upon examination that they were entirely un¬ 
harmed, and each contained a little water. Those in the 
interior contained nearly the same amount as when 
placed there. The copper reservoirs attached to the 
interior surface of the first door were entirely empty; 
those upon the second about one-third of their con¬ 
tents. It is clear that we are indebted to the agency 
of steam for the preservation of the valuable contents 
of our safe. The reservoirs upon the first door held 
water sufficient to maintain an atmosphere of steam 
in the space, during the time the fire was most intense ; 
afterwards, the heat was conducted through to the 
second, when the boiling water filled the vault itself 
with steam, and prevented the papers from igniting. 
Without the reservoirs upon the outer door, the two 
water pails would have been burned before their con¬ 
tents could have been evaporated, and the flames 
would have found access to the vault through the inner 
door, had it not been protected. We used an iron 
safe, of an approved pattern, in the counting-room as 
a matter of convenience, not trusting, however, any 
papers of value in it. This safe w ? as taken from the 
ruins burned through and through. It afforded no 
more protection than would a wooden box. The plan 
adopted by the American Steam Safe Company of this 
city, of using water reservoirs as a lining, is an excel¬ 
lent one. So long as the water lasts, steam is present 
in the cavity, and the temperature cannot rise high 


FIRE PROOF BUILDINGS. 


681 


enough to ignite or char the paper. Every bank 
vault in the country, and every brick or stone cham¬ 
ber, in which valuables are kept, should have the 
doors covered on the inside with water reservoirs. 

Mr. R W. Edis states that he made a careful inspec¬ 
tion of the buildings burned by the Communists in 
Paris, and the following is an extract from his report 
of observations there made:— 

a Where the walls were of brick, or of stone, pro¬ 
tected by plaster, they, as a rule, were invariably fire¬ 
proof, and except where thrown down by the expan¬ 
sion and dragging of the iron girders, remained erect 
and generally sound. Where ironwork, either wrought 
or cast, was used in floor or roof construction without 
any plaster protection, it was twisted and turned like 
ribbon, and although not adding actual fuel to the 
flames, did more damage by breaking and snapping 
than any wood construction could possibly have done. 
The iron supports, as a rule, invariably broke, or were 
bent out of the perpendicular, so as to allow the floors 
and roofs which they were supposed to support to fall 
in and drag the general fabric with them; and to quote 
Captain Shaw’s new book on Fire Surveys: ‘ When it 
is remembered that at a temperature of 212 degrees 
Fahrenheit, or the boiling point of water, cast-iron 
loses about 15 per cent, of its strength; that at the 
temperature of molten lead, 612 degrees Fahrenheit, 
it has probably no strength at all; and that at a tem¬ 
perature of 2787 degrees Fahrenheit, which is prob¬ 
ably much below that of the center of a large building 
on fire, it becomes liquid, it can hardly be wondered 
that so little remained of this so-called fire-proof 
construction. The floors which proved themselves 
almost fire-proof were those constructed of light iron 


682 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


joists about two feet apart, filled in with plaster of 
Paris, or with ordinary brick or tile arches, with the 
undersides plastered and the tops covered with cement 
or tile flooring; these only failed by the failure of the 
unprotected iron supports beneath them. In short, it 
was evident that good plaster-work, either in walls or 
ceilings, invariably, in a great measure, was fire-proof; 
and that stone and iron construction without such 
. protection, was not only useless, but much more dan¬ 
gerous than good, sound wood beams and posts, brick¬ 
work of every description and good wood floors, well 
packed and protected by plastered ceilings.” 

It is, of course, impossible to make any building 
absolutely fire-proof, but what is essentially desired is 
that in great stone warehouses, the space of each 
section of the building should be divided by good 
brick w T alls into as small divisions as possible, compati¬ 
ble with the absolute requirements of the building, 
each shut off by double iron doors; that stone should 
be used in floors and stair-cases nowhere, except where 
solidly supported at each end, and protected by 
plaster; that iron girders should be laid loose in the 
walls so as to allow for expansion, and that these, 
together with all iron supports, should be encased and 
protected with plaster.” 


CHAPTER XLIY. 


♦ 

INSURANCE, ITS HISTORY AND IMPORTANCE. 


Definition and Objects of Insurance.—Rise of the Institution.—Insurance 
in Ancient Times, and in the Middle Ages.—Its Origin in Germany 
and England.—Magnitude and Importance of the Present System.—A 
Few Facts and Figures. 

NSURANCE is that contract whereby an 
insurer engages for a consideration which 
is called a premium to insure a certain 
party against loss of or injury to certain 
property by certain perils. The word peril 
here means not the danger but the hap¬ 
pening of the event which was feared. When the 
contract is in writing, the instrument is called a policy 
of insurance. 

Marine Insurance is the insurance of maritime 
policy against maritime perils. 

Fire Insurance is the insurance of houses or goods 
against fire. 

Life Insurance may be called insurance against 
death; it is, however, a contract to pay to certain sur- 

( 683 ) 




684 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


vivors a certain sum on the death of the party whose 
life is insured. 

It is at least possible that the practice of insurance 
was more or less common among merchants, even cen¬ 
turies before it was recognized by the law. It is, at all 
events, no older than the close of the middle ages; 
and it must be regarded as prominent among the 
many illustrations of that tendency to association 
which is at once the effect and the cause of our ad¬ 
vancing civilization. By means of insurance the 
resources of many are aggregated for the protection 
of each. Merchants become members of what is often 
called,'and by the universal practice of insurance be¬ 
comes, the mercantile community. Each one pays 
over a part of his profits, so small as not to incon¬ 
venience him, and thus obtains protection against a 
loss which would crush him; and what he pays helps 
to form the fund that indemnifies others. Hence, 
commerce is promoted and developed to an extent far 
beyond what would otherwise be possible, because en¬ 
terprises become not only possible but prudent by 
means of insurance, which without it would be so rash 
that only the reckless would undertake it. 

Marine insurance was wholly unknown to the 
Greeks and Romans, and oriental nations. Chief Jus¬ 
tice Coke (6 Reb. 47), about 1588, notices the prac¬ 
tice of insurance as mere novelty, and the first Eng¬ 
lish statute which recognizes it is 48 Elizabeth, c. 12 
(1601). But the 66th section of the laws of Wisby (a 
maritime code published, probaby, about 1250) 
speaks distinctly of it. Some suppose this a subse¬ 
quent interpolation. 

On the 28th of January, 1523, five persons, ap¬ 
pointed for that purpose, drew up at Florence some 


INSUKANCES. 


685 


articles which are still employed on the exchange at 
Leghorn. These important regulations, together with 
the prescribed form of policies, which may be consid¬ 
ered as the oldest, have been inserted, in Italian and 
German, by Magens, in his treatise on insurance, 
average, and bottomry, published at Hamburgh in 
1753. 

There is still preserved a short regulation of the 
25th of May, 1537, by the Emperor Charles V., re¬ 
specting bills of exchange and insurance, in which the 
strictly fulfilling only of an agreement of insurance is 
commanded. 

In the year 1556 Philip II., king of Spain, gave to 
the Spanish merchants certain regulations respecting 
insurance, which are inserted by Magens, with a Ger¬ 
man translation, in his work before mentioned. They 
contain some forms of policies on ships going to the 
Indies. 

In the year 1598, the Kamer von Assurantie, cham¬ 
ber of insurance, was established at Amsterdam. An 
account of the first regulations of this insurance office 
may be seen in Pontanus’s history of the city of Am¬ 
sterdam, and in other works. 

In the year 1600, regulations respecting insurance 
were formed by the city of Middleburg in Zealand. 

It appears that the first regulations respecting in¬ 
surances in England, which may be seen in Anderson’s 
History of Commerce, were made in the year 1601. 
We find by them, that insurers had before that 
period conducted themselves in such a manner that 
the utmost confidence was reposed in their honesty, 
and that on this account few or no disputes had 
arisen. 

In the year 1604 regulations were formed respect- 


686 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


ing insurance at Rotterdam; and in 1610 were drawn 
up those of Genoa, which Magens has inserted in his 
work, taken from the Latin statutes of the republic, 
together with a German translation. 

In 1612 the insurance chamber at Amsterdam was 
established by public authority and received several 
privileges. 

Malynes asserts, but without either proofs or prob¬ 
ability, that the people of Antwerp were first taught 
insurance by the English ; and says that, as the mer¬ 
chants assembled for transacting business in Lombard 
street, so called because certain Italians from Lom¬ 
bardy had lombards there, or houses for lending 
money on pledges, long before the building of the 
exchange, it became customary, as it was in his time 
(1622), to be guided in policies by what was done in 
Lombard street, in London. 

[M’Culloch states that it is probable insurance was 
introduced into England some time about the begin¬ 
ning of the sixteenth century, for it is mentioned in 
the statute 43 Eliz., c. 12, in which its utility is very 
clearly set forth, that it had been an immemorial usage 
among merchants, both English and foreign, when 
they made any great adventure, to procure insurance 
to be made on the ships or goods adventured. From 
this it may reasonably be supposed that insurance had 
been in use in England for at least a century previous. 
It appears from the same statute, that it had originally 
been usual to refer all disputes that arose with respect 
to insurances to the decision of u grave and discreet” 
merchants appointed by the lord mayor. But abuses 
having grown out of this practice, the statute author¬ 
ized the lord chancellor to appoint a commission for 
the trial of insurance cases ; and in the reign of 


INSURANCES. 


687 . 


Charles II. the powers of the commissioners were en- 
- larged. But this court soon after fell into disuse, 
and what is singular, no trace can now be discovered 
of any of its proceedings.] 

Guicciardini, who wrote his u Account of the Neth¬ 
erlands” in 1567, remarks in describing Antwerp, 
that the merchants there were accustomed to insure 
their ships. Anderson says that this is the first in¬ 
stance of maritime insurance, which is very astonish¬ 
ing, as he thinks the invention of insurance is to be 
found in Suetonius, and in the laws of the Isle of 
Oleron. 

A most useful initiation of insurance in trade is the 
institution of insurance offices to indemnify losses sus¬ 
tained by fire. Companies for that purpose were 
first formed toward the middle of the last century, 
though houses were insured by individuals much 
earlier. The fire office at Paris was established in 
1745; that of the electorate of Hanover in 1750; that 
of Nassau Weilburg in 1751 ; those of Brunswick, 
Wolfenbuttel, and Wirtemberg in 1753 ; that of Aus- 
pach in 1754, that of Baden Durlach in 1758; that of 
the county of Mark in 1764; those of Saxe Weimar 
and Eisenach in 1768; and that of the Society of 
the Clergy in the Mark of Brandenburg, to insure 
broods and household furniture, was established in 
1769. 

It is perhaps known to few that even in the begin¬ 
ning of the seventeenth century, a proposal was made 
by some ingenious person, that all the proprietors of 
land should insure the houses of their subjects against 
fire, on their paying so much per cent, annually, 
according to the value of them. The author of this 
scheme presented it to Count Anthony Gunther von 


G88 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


Oldenburg, in the year 1609, as a means of finance 
not to be found in any work printed on that subject. 
The author in his place said, that u as many fires hap¬ 
pened by which a great number of people lost their 
property, the count might lay before his subjects the 
danger of such accidents, and propose to them that if 
they would, either singly or united, put a value on 
their houses, and for every hundred dollars valuation 
pay to him yearly one dollar, he, on the other hand, 
would engage that, in case, by the will of God, their 
houses should be reduced to ashes, the misfortunes of 
war excepted, he would take upon himself the loss, 
and pay to the sufferers as much money as might be 
sufficient to rebuild them; and that all persons, both 
natives and foreigners, who might be desirous of 
sharing in the benefits of this institution, should not 
be excluded. The author was confident that, though 
the damage might fall heavy at first, a considerable 
sum would be gradually raised from year to year, 
and that every one might thus insure his houses 
against accidents; he had no doubt that it would be 
fully proved, if a calculation were made of the number 
of houses consumed by fire, within a certain space in 
the course of thirty years, that the loss would not 
amount, by a good deal, to the sum that would be 
collected in that time. He did not, however, advise 
that all the houses in every town should be compre¬ 
hended, as the money claimed might amount to too 
much; but only that some and certain houses should 
be admitted in to this association. 

After the great fire in London in 1666 a member of 
the court of common council of that city proposed that 
the business of fire insurance should be undertaken by 
the city. This plan hung fire so long, however, that 


INSURANCES. 


689 


private individuals, acting on the suggestion, submit¬ 
ted to the citizens of London a u design for insuring 1 
houses from fire,” and on September 16th, 1681, issued 
a notice offering to insure brick houses against fire for 
six pence, and timber houses for twelve pence on the 
pound, being at the rate of £2 10s. per cent, for the 
former, and £5 per cent, for the latter. 

Shortly after this, however, October 13th, 1681, the 
corporation scheme was finally started, when com¬ 
menced a vigorous but amusing competition for busi¬ 
ness between the two companies, the war being 
carried on by means of pamphlets and the columns of 
the Gazette , and ending only with the withdrawal of 
the corporation company in 1696. This augmented 
the success of the rival office and led to the formation 
of numerous other companies. Most of the companies 
of this time were wholly or in part on the “mutual” 
principle, and had but a short existence. But one 
company formed during the seventeenth century now 
survives. The business steadily increased in Great 
Britain, new companies being formed as needed, until 
in 1856 there were seventy-two companies recognized 
by the government, annually insuring property in the 
aggregate to the amount of over nine hundred millions 
sterling. The first insurance of merchandise and 
household goods took place in 1706, protection being 
previously afforded only to buildings, and confined to 
the city of London. The first tax on the business was 
by the effort of Lord North in 1782,—Is. 6d. per cent, 
on the amount of property insured; since increased to 
3s. per cent, and Is. on each policy. In the United 
States various attempts were made to inaugurate the 
business of fire insurance during the latter part of the 
eighteenth century, but nothing permanent resulted 


690 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


• for many years; and at this date there are but few 
companies of any note which can boast of a greater 
age than fifteen or twenty years. The city of Hart¬ 
ford, Conn., is widely known as the parent of substan¬ 
tial fire underwriting, and also as having inaugurated 
the agency system, which has proved a success by 
years of trial. 

Such is a brief history of the rise and growth of the 
system of insurance. Its magnitude and importance 
can hardly be overestimated. It has been well said by 
a writer upon insurance that, “ In order to the forma¬ 
tion of a proper estimate of the importance of insur¬ 
ance, it is only necessary to consider that all the great 
commercial, manufacturing, and industrial interests 
would at once be paralyzed by its failure; that no 
merchant or manufacturer can obtain the necessary 
credit to carry on his business without it; that the 
most vital and inviting enterprises must fail to attract 
the capital necessary to their successful prosecution 
without it; the commission merchant will not buy the 
farmer’s grain and produce and store it in warehouses, 
nor commerce launch her ships to carry them to 
market and return laden with needed supplies without 
* it; that he who labors by the day for his bread, to¬ 
gether with his employer, would be prostrated by its 
failure; that without it no prudent business man could 
rest quietly on his bed; in short, that the insurance 
company stands between property holders and pov¬ 
erty.” 

Insurance is -the security under whose protection 
our western cities have been built. Millions of dollars 
have been loaned, that would not have been loaned 
had not the insurance policy formed a portion of the 
collateral security pledged. Insurance has absolutely 


INSURANCES 


691 


had more to do with the growth and prosperity of the 
cities of this continent than any other one element, 
because, without insurance, enterprises would not have 
been commenced or carried on, credit and confidence 
could not have been established or maintained. Com¬ 
merce is the corner-stone of all mercantile prosperity, 
and commerce cannot be prosecuted without insurance. 
The merchant dare not send his ships to sea without the 
protection of insurance. Insurance is the aegis under 
whose cover every cargo of grain shipped upon our 
inland lakes is compelled to find safety. Not a mort¬ 
gage on western property could be negotiated with 
eastern capitalists if the mortgage deed were not sup¬ 
plemented by an insurance policy. Not a manufactory 
would move a wheel, where now there are scores, did 
not insurance hover over the investment and stand 
ready to indemnify for the ravages of fire. There is 
not an important moneyed interest in the entire coun¬ 
try into which insurance does not ramify. 

Some idea of the magnitude of the insurance interest 
in this country may be had from the fact that the cash 
receipts of one hundred and eighty-eight joint stock 
fire and marine companies, and seventy-one life com¬ 
panies, reporting to the New York insurance depart¬ 
ment, were, for the year 1870, more than two hundred 
and sixty millions of dollars. And there are at least 
a dozen life companies and scores of fire companies, 
great and small, not included in this statement. 

It is only about fifty years since the first life 
insurance company in this country was organized, and 
in the year 1871 the enormous sum of about two 
thousand millions of dollars was at stake by the various 
companies upon the lives of American citizens. The 
gross amount of the annual premiums paid on life pol- 


692 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


icies was in the neighborhood of one hundred and 
forty-five millions of dollars. In the same year the 
fire risks amounted to over eight thousand millions. 

The JEtna, Hartford, and Phoenix, the three leading 
fire insurance companies of Hartford, Ct., have, 
within the past forty-three years, paid over $50,000,000 
in losses have received $78,000,000 in premiums and 
paid dividends to the amount of nearly $9,000,000. 

One company, the Home of New York, had insured 
risks in 1871 to the amount of $242,265,000. Another 
company of Hartford, the JEtna, in the same year, had 
insured risks to the amount of $237,207,000. 

The assets of Hartford companies alone, amount to 
$60,000,000, while the assets of all the companies in 
the country are estimated at five times that amount. 

The number of agents employed by all the insurance 
companies in the country is not exactly known, but is 
estimated at upwards of 10,000, of which the Hartford 
companies alone employ upwards of 4,000. 


CHAPTER XLY. 


THE BUSINESS OP INSURANCE AND HOW IT 

IS DONE. 

Subdivision of tbc Insurance.—Nature of Risks in General.—Life Insur¬ 
ance as a Science.—Its Essential Principles.—Unsettled Character of 
Fire Insurance.—How it is Conducted in England, France, and Ger¬ 
many.—The Law of Insurance.—State Legislation.—Fraudulent Com¬ 
panies, and How They are Organized.—The Officers and the Policy.— 
The Insurance Detectives.—The Journals and the Fire Patrol. 


N the brief history of Insurance given in 
the foregoing chapter we have noted its 
origin and traced its rise from crude and 
small beginnings, step by step, up to its 
present colossal proportions. The institu¬ 
tion is still growing wider and deeper in 
its relations to society. The necessity for its protect¬ 
ing new interests is being constantly recognized. 
Under our complex and extensive system of com¬ 
merce, and in response to the multiplied needs of 
modern civilization, it has become specialized in its 
application. Each particular contingency to be pro¬ 
vided against requires close study. Classification and 
organization are demanded; thus the institution tends 

(693) 



694 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


continually to be divided and subdivided as to its 
classes and mode of operation. 

Death, disease, and accident, the perils of the sea, 
war, and robbery, the destruction or injury to which 
property is liable from various causes, these are the 
principal contingencies to be provided against by 
insurance, and out of them has grown the special 
organizations known as Life Insurance, Marine Insur¬ 
ance, Fire Insurance, &c., &c., which employ a vast 
amount of capital and brains, and multitudes of 
skilled and intelligent workers. 

Of the three special organizations last mentioned, 
Life Insurance, by the aid of the mathematicians, has 
been reduced almost to the exactness of a science. 
Here there can be but one loss, and that is death; 
and therefore there is no partial loss, nor average, 
nor abandonment. The principles upon which Life 
Insurance Companies proceed are stated by Hon. 
Elizur Wright substantially as follows—viz: An indi¬ 
vidual bets a life insurance company that he will die, 
the company bets that he will not die ; the company 
stakes a certain sum, and the individual would have 
to stake exactly the same sum, plus the sum neces¬ 
sary for the company to charge as its profits—say 
one-thir.d. But this w T ould not be an attractive bet, 
and would not provide for a family at all; accord¬ 
ingly the company, taking into consideration that it 
will realize upon the stake laid down (which will be 
in its hands until the individual dies) a certain 
interest, applies to the mathematicians to calculate 
this interest to find what sum paid down will make 
the company good for the ultimate loss of the bet 
and the expenses. This is single premium. This 
bet now begins to be attractive, because it will do 


BUSINESS OF INSURANCE. 


695 


something to provide for a family. Say, if a man 
is thirty, he pays in three hundred dollars, and he 
may have a thousand when he dies by virtue of the 
accumulation. 

But the laws of average which, when applied to 
mortality are unerring, still remain almost inscrutable 
in respect to the elements. The field of fire insur¬ 
ance is comparatively unexplored. The facts upon 
which it rests necessarily cannot be ascertained with 
sufficient fullness and accuracy to give much more 
than an approximation to anything like science in 
this branch of the institution whereof we are treating. 
Something has been done in the way of statistics, but 
these are still exceedingly meagre and unsatisfactory. 

The unsettled character of fire insurance is shown 
by the different modes of its operation in different 
countries. In some of the German States the govern¬ 
ment is the insurer. A tax is levied upon the 
assessed valuation of the buildings, and a fund thus 
formed out of which are paid the losses by fire and 
theft during fires. Where risks are insured against 
in companies in other German States, the policy is 
forfeited in cases where insurance is procured in 
excess of the value of the property insured. 

In France a person is insured against loss resulting 
from fire happening to his neighbor, but not against 
loss happening from that cause upon his own pre¬ 
mises. This, it is alleged, renders incendiarism more 
difficult, because it would require complicity between 
two or more neighbors in order to perpetrate this 
crime against the insurance companies. 

In England the institution is less specialized than 
in America ) most companies there transact all 
branches of the business, life, fire and marine, though 


696 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


applications for insurance against fire are, no doubt, 
more closely scrutinized than in our own country. 

The classes of risks against which insurance was 
given in times past were much more numerous and 
varied in England than in the United States; but in 
the latter part of the last century the business became 
settled by law upon a reliable basis. 

The more solid and substantial manner in which 
buildings are erected in the old country enables 
companies to transact business in a manner w T hich 
cannot be adopted in this, until our ordinary modes 
of architecture are revolutionized. Hence the greatest 
care and foresight must be exercised by American 
companies in order not only to protect the commu¬ 
nity but to maintain their own status as sound and 
trustworthy institutions. 

The whole common law of insurance has grown 
out of the business of insurance, and has, therefore, 
originated in the sagacity and experience of the 
merchants, courts doing little more than adopting 
and enforcing their usages. As an institution in our 
own country insurance is the creation of local law. 
Every company derives its legal existence within 
the limits of the commonwealth that credits it. Even 
the recognition of its existence by other states 
depends solely upon the equity they may choose to 
extend to it. They may exclude it from their 
domain at pleasure. They may restrict and limit 
its business at their will. Such has been the decision 
of our highest court of judicature. 

Thus it is that the statutory legislation respecting 
insurance in the United States is of a very diverse 
and complex character. In some states heretofore 
a special act was necessary to enable an insurance 


BUSINESS OF INSURANCE. 


697 


company to organize; in others, a general law was 
passed, in conformity with which companies were 
formed. Statutes have been piled upon statutes. 
The operation of some of these enactments have 
been beneficial, that of others injurious to the general 
institution. The aim of the best state legislation 
has been to prevent fraud in the formation and opera¬ 
tion of companies, while it threw no hindrances in 
the way of companies formed in other states. Full 
and perfect evidence of a paid-up capital, of the 
amount and nature of the assets, of the amount and 
kind of risks insured, of the amount of losses paid, 
and of the premiums received, and of all other facts 
relating to the condition and transactions of the 
company, 1ms been in some states required by law. 
Experience has proved the necessity for such legisla¬ 
tion. The early history of tire insurance in our 
country contains many instances of companies fraudu¬ 
lently organized and fraudulently conducted. The 
cases of the Henry Clay, the Daniel Webster, the 
Wall street, and the consolidated insurance companies 
of New York, are still fresh in the memory of the 
public. Here gross fraud was committed in the 
organization of the companies. Forty companies 
were formed in Philadelphia, which, after an average 
existence of little over two years, went into insolv¬ 
ency. Here there were both gross fraud and the 
baneful consequences of lax and partisan legislation. 

The principles of the law are based upon the pur¬ 
poses of the insurance; thus it is necessary that 
insurers should be strict in their requirements, and 
specific in wording their contracts. In this country, 
thus far, underwriters are in advance of the law, 
most insurance statutes having been framed to meet 


698 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


the requirements of particular cases which have come 
before the courts; consequently many points still 
rest upon decisions of lower courts. Many European 
countries are in advance of us in this respect, having 
codes of insurance laws so framed as to meet the 
requirements of cases that arise. In the English 
practice of fire insurance the companies, in the event 
of having paid a loss caused by incendiarism, have a 
right of recovery from the country in case the incen¬ 
diary is convicted of the crime. English companies 
are also exempt from losses arising from the natural 
heating of hay and grain, which is held to be the 
result of gross carelessness. It has also been plainly 
decided in English practice (Court of King’s Bench, 
March, 1832,) that if the assured, in the event of a 
loss, sets up a fraudulent claim (as to the amount of 
loss) he shall forfeit his whole right of recovery 
(Friedlander v. London Assurance Co.) A strict 
application of such a rule in this country would make 
sad work with the extravagant demands of many 
claimants. The French companies pay no losses 
which occur in the building in which the fire origi¬ 
nates, and it is stated that this provision accounts for 
the noted immunity from fires enjoyed by that 
country. The business is monopolized by a few com¬ 
panies, under government protection. 

The German practice differs essentially from ours, 
and provides in certain cases for abandonment, as in 
marine insurance. 

The manner in which certain Philadelphia companies 
were started was wittily described in a newspaper 
published in that city: “ A company is chartered, its 
stock paid in, or guarantee capital subscribed in a 
marvelously expeditious fashion. An individual 


BUSINESS OF INSURANCE. 


699 


tolerably used up in other expedients, debates whether 
he will sell sugar by the pound or indemnify losses 
in the small matter of a few millions. He decides 
upon the latter. Having no time to purchase a 
charter from the Legislature, he takes a walk up 
Walnut street, and calls upon Mr. C. Mr. C. brings 
from a side drawer a goodly package of charters, 
which he will sell for from $1,500 to $5,000, accord¬ 
ing to the extent of the special franchises granted— 
the provisions which afford escapes from fulfillment 
of obligations bringing the highest figures. The 
negotiations concluded, our embryo underwriter, hav¬ 
ing no cash, agrees to sign a bond that the price shall 
be paid out of the premiums as they come in. 

“ The energetic projector makes short work of the 
remaining necessary steps. An advertisement gives 
notice of the opening of the subscription books. 
Nobody attends, but somehow the subscriptions are 
made up, and the ten per cent, cash is paid down 
with money borrowed for three days for this purpose. 

“ The investments now begin. The company’s 
stock is exchanged for mortgages on Jersey sand hills, 
Quicksand Canal, and shares of the Hopeless Line 
and Mining Company. A bushel or more of bills 
receivable make up the balance of the assets. The 
projector makes himself secretary, and selects the 
eminent John Pontius Pilate Smith as president. 
The list of directors is then filled out, who, in the 
event of failure, aver they were never aware of the 
distinguished honor thrust upon them. Five thousand 
dollars is borrowed on the credit of the company, and 
all is ready for business.” 

In many of our states a recurrence of these evils 
has been prevented by carefully guarded legislation, 


700 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


and it is now the fault of the insured if he suffers 
by taking policies in weak and badly-conducted 
companies. 

The officers of a fire insurance company consist of 
a president, secretary, and board of directors, inspect¬ 
ors to examine risks, adjusters to make up the state¬ 
ment of losses, and agents to effect insurance. By 
far the larger portion of the business between the 
company and the insured is done by the agents, who 
often unite in themselves the offices of inspector and 
adjuster, with power of attorney from the company 
to execute policies. The Hartford companies alone 
employ about four thousand agents. They are paid 
by a percentage upon the premiums. In the large 
cities insurances are negotiated to a great extent by 
brokers. 

The contract of insurance styled the policy is 
substantially as follows, viz.:— 

The - Insurance Company by this policy of 

insurance, in consideration of fifty dollars to them 
paid by the assured, the receipt whereof is hereby 
acknowledged, do insure John Smith against loss or 
damage by fire to the amount of fifteen thousand 
dollars (here follows a description of the property 
insured). And the said company hereby agree to 
make good unto the said assured, his executors, 
administrators, and assigns, all such immediate loss 
or damage not exceeding in amount the sum 
insured, as shall happen by fire to the property as 
above specified, from the first day of January, 1873, 
at noon, to the first day of January, 1874, at noon; 
the said loss or damage to be estimated according to 
the actual cash value of said property at the time the 
fire shall happen.” The policy then goes on to limit 



BUSINESS OF INSURANCE. 


701 


very strictly the liability of the company, and to 
define with great minuteness the duty of the insured 
in the premises, and to give other provisions regard¬ 
ing the rights and liabilities of the parties to the 
contract. 

The great minuteness and strictness of the specifi¬ 
cations of fire insurance policies have often given rise 
to litigation, which has ended in adjudications which 
have served to define the respective rights and duties 
of the insurance companies and of the assured. 

The importance and magnitude of the insurance 
interest has called for united action on the part of 
the companies in the different states, and this demand 
has given rise to the organization known as the 
National Board of Fire Underwriters. This board 
consists of a president, vice-president, treasurer, and 
secretary, with an executive committee, and com¬ 
mittees on finance, on legislation and taxation, on 
form of policy, on adjustment and statistics, and on 
incendiarism and arson. Meetings are held from time 
to time, in which the whole subject of insurance is 
discussed in all its bearings, and measures taken to 
carry out improvements in the mode of transacting 
business; to secure uniformity of action on the part 
of the different companies; to check frauds and other 
evils, and to collect statistics useful for intelligent 
operation in the future. 

The insurance interest is also subserved by a 
number of journals which devote themselves to the 
subject in all its branches. 

The Insurance Patrol is an organization recently 
formed in the city of New York for the purpose of 
cooperating wfith the fire department, and saving 
property at fires for the benefit of the companies. 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


702 

At present it consists of twenty-six permanent and 
thirty-one auxiliary men, officered by a superintendent, 
a captain and assistant-captain of the lower patrol, a 
captain and assistant-captain of the central patrol, 
and a captain and assistant-captain of the upper 
patrol. 

The offices of the insurance patrol are connected 
with the central offices of the fire department, and 
supplied with gong bells, upon which the fire alarm 
is sounded by electricity, the same as at the engine- 
houses, and in drill and rapidity of action and effici¬ 
ency the organization rivals the engine companies of 
which we have already spoken. Within thirty 
seconds after an alarm has been sounded, the patrol 
wagons, drawn by trained horses, are far on their 
way to the fire. The special duty of the fire patrol 
is to protect goods from damage by water, which is 
done by covering them with tarpaulins. Hundreds 
of thousands of dollars are by these means saved to 
the insurance companies every year. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 


INSURANCE AS A BUSINESS. DOES IT PAY? 


The Two Interested Classes, Insurers and Insured.—Does the Business 
Pay?—Noteworthy Facts in the History of Insurance.—Causes of the 
Failure of Insurance Companies.— Competition and Low Bates.—The 
Bemedy for the Evil.—Can it be Applied ?—A Few Important Points. 
—Classifying Bisks.—The Character and Antecedents of the Applicant. 
—Incendiarism, Fraud, and Gross Carelessness.—Paying up Losses.— 
The Most Important Point.—A Proper Distribution of Bisks.—Need 
of Beform and Improvement.—Uniform Laws, Uniform Bates, and 
Uniform Policy. The New Era in Insurance, 





HERE are two grand classes specially in¬ 
terested in the subje.ct of Insurance : 1st. 
The insured or policy holders; 2d. The 
stockholders. The safety of the policy 
holders and profits of the stockholders de¬ 
pend equally upon the measure of business 
done, the way in which it is done, and the consequent 
ability of the company to pay its losses and declare 
its dividends without impairing or threatening its cap¬ 
ital. At the outset the fact stares us in the face that 
the risks taken generally by companies do not, in the 
long run, produce an income sufficient to support 
them. 


(703) 




704 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


The statistics of Fire Insurance business in the 
United States will show that in the period of twenty 
years commencing with 1811 and ending with 1830, 
it did not produce an average profit of three per cent, 
per annum on the capital employed. 

The business of the twenty years commencing with 
1831 and ending with 1850 exhibits a very discour¬ 
aging result. The whole of the premiums received 
for the insurance of property in the United States and 
Canada during this period, and many millions of capi¬ 
tal, were required to meet the losses. Many of the 
stock companies and nearly all the mutual companies 
were ruined. 

Taking together the whole of the business of Fire 
Insurance in the United States and the British Prov¬ 
inces of North America for the period of sixty years, 
from 1791 to 1850, it will be found that not only has 
there been no profit but a very large loss of capital. 

It may be said by those who have not made them¬ 
selves acquainted with the statistics of the business 
that this unfortunate result was occasioned by the 
great conflagration in the City of New York in 1835; 
that such calamities are only of occasional occurrence 
and cannot be provided against by Insurance. This is 
an error. If the amount of property insured in New 
York and the amount destroyed be compared with 
that in Albany, St. Louis, and other cities, and in vil¬ 
lages in which extensive fires have happened, it will 
be found that the destruction in the city of New York 
in 1835 has been surpassed in other places during that 
period. The statistics show that the business in 
smaller cities and villages for many years has been 
unprofitable. The whole of the premiums received 
from 1840 to 1850, in western New York and in the 


INSURANCE. fog 

Northwestern and Southeastern States did not pay the 
losses by twenty-five per cent. 

The twenty-two years that have elapsed since 1850 
do not furnish grounds for believing that any radical 
improvement has prevailed in the management of the 
business of Fire Insurance. Many hundred companies 
have been formed and many hundred companies have 
failed during that short period. Two of the greatest 
conflagrations recorded by history, that of Chicago 
and that of Boston, have happened to sap the resources 
of the companies, and we might almost say to threaten 
the very existence of the entire institution. 

The desire to do a large business without waiting to 
obtain it by a careful and judicious selection of risks 
at sufficient premiums, as the old companies have 
done, has induced the new companies to engage in a 
strife to obtain the risks that were under insurance in 
the old companies by reducing the rates of premiums; 
thus compelling the old companies to follow their ex¬ 
ample or be deprived of their business. The effect 
of this unwise competition was to bring down pre¬ 
miums so low that the aggregate amount was not 
sufficient to pay the ordinary losses. There was noth¬ 
ing laid by to meet extraordinary losses. The old 
companies continued to pay their usual semi-annual 
dividends by applying the interest on capital, and 
when necessary as much of the surplus as would make, 
with the interest, the amount required. 

And yet these teachings of history have been disre¬ 
garded. This has been proved by the course of 
thousands of business men, who, though prudent and 
sagacious in ordinary transactions, habitually look to 
the rate of premium as the main thing that shall de¬ 
cide them in the selection of a company, giving their 



TOG 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


preference to low figures. It is proved by the swarms 
of new companies that have come like locusts, de¬ 
vouring the community for a season, rejoicing in a 
transitory success, and then passing away to be suc¬ 
ceeded by others of the same ephemeral character. 
It has been proved by the proverb that “ if the agent 
is popular and effective, no matter what sort of a com¬ 
pany he has, he can do any amount of business he 
pleases.” 

That competition which is called the life of business 
is too often the death of insurance companies, and the 
loss or even ruin of the insured. In spite of the les¬ 
sons that have been given, the strife still goes on, aug¬ 
menting disaster to all concerned, both insurers and 
insured. There are not, at the present moment, over 
twenty-five American companies that are more than 
twenty years old, and competition is still extended, 
unscrupulous and industrious. 

It is plain to see that low razes are mainly respon¬ 
sible for the precarious condition of Fire Insurance in 
the United States at the present moment. 

At what rates then can companies do business and 
pay their losses, to say nothing of dividends ? This is 
the great and important question to be answered now. 

Rates of premium that are sufficient to meet the 
aggregate losses can only be ascertained by the ex¬ 
perience of many years; there is no other safe guide 
for the transaction of business, and he who attempts 
it without such guide, trusting to his own judgment or 
to the results in cities and villages that have escaped 
large losses, will be disappointed. Such fortunate j>e- 
riods have happened to nearly all the cities and villages 
that have heretofore been exempted. 

If the amount of premiums made in fortunate 
years is not considerably more than sufficient to meet 


INSURANCE. 


707 


great losses in unfortunate years, the deficiency must 
be taken from the capital. With such management 
the business cannot be sustained—all engaged in it 
will be ruined. 

Now the statistics prove that heretofore rates have 
been too low. Let them be raised then. The great 
fires of Chicago and Boston have already had one 
good effect, viz.: that of raising rates. Those com¬ 
panies which have survived these disasters are indeed 
justified in demanding larger premiums, but we fear 
these terrible lessons will cease at last to have their . 
effect, and under a ravenous competition for business, 
rates will fall back to their former ruinous standard. 

Let it be ascertained what is the proper rate, then 
fix that rate and maintain it. Let it be a uniform 
one for the same risks all over the country. If it 
were possible it might perhaps be well to fix the rate 
by law, but with our present light this will remain to 
be settled in the future, granting that legislation upon 
this point will ever be practicable or expedient. 

Some points in the practical working of the insur¬ 
ance business deserve a more than passing notice. 

The first point to be regarded is a proper and care¬ 
ful classification of risks. 

Certain kinds of property will not be insured by 
the best companies upon any terms, as for example 
the following, viz.: 

Brimstone works, flax mills, oil or tar boiling works, 
panoramas or other scenic paintings, patent leather 
manufactories, enameled cloth manufactories, theaters, 
turpentine factories, distilleries, gunpowder works, 
oakum factories, varnish makers, rope walks, india 
rubber works, batting mills, kerosene or coal oil works. 

Of course buildings contiguous to those in which 

42 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


708 

any business of the above nature is carried on will bo 
avoided. The neighborhood and surroundings of a 
building should always be carefully scrutinized. 

The following risks should also be avoided or 
scrutinized very closely, viz. : Nuisances, such as soap 
and candle factories, bone boiling factories, glue fac¬ 
tories, slaughter houses, etc., which are frequently the 
subjects of controversy, and burned to rid a neighbor¬ 
hood of their presence. Branch stores, transient and 
itinerant traders, store fixtures and furniture, travel¬ 
ing shows, circuses, daguerrean cars, and clustered 
special hazards. By these last named risks we mean 
those manufacturing establishments which are found 
in clusters, especially about a water power. Thus a 
foundry has a pattern shop, and often a machine shop, 
and the latter must have its blacksmithy; a flouring 
mill, a paper mill, and a saw mill, may also be gath¬ 
ered around in such a manner that each contributes 
to the hazard of all the others, and when one burns, 
all burn. Again, carriage and wagon making involve 
five distinct and separate trades, viz. : Woodwork, 
blacksrnithing, painting, plating, and trimming, the 
four former being counted as special hazards. Noth¬ 
ing but very high premiums will save a company from 
losing heavily upon all these risks. 

The materials of which edifices are constructed 
forms another important matter for consideration. 
The whole subject of fire-proof buildings bears a vital 
relation to fire insurance. The recent disastrous fires 
in Chicago and Boston have proved the necessity for 
radical changes in the classification of risks. In the 
cities of Europe the houses are planned with a special 
regard to the danger of fires; this is made first and 
foremost. The fire departments are of secondary im- 



FIREMEN’S MONUMENT—GREENWOOD CEMETERY. 



















































. 











INSURANCE. 


711 


portance ; the first thought is to prevent fires, and the 
second to extinguish them. Here we have reversed 
the order. We line our streets with clap traps, and 
then keep magnificent establishments to put them 
out, and organize hundreds of insurance companies to 
pay the losses. 

The second point to be regarded is the character 
and antecedents of the individual making the applica¬ 
tion for insurance. 

W e have shown in the chapter on incendiarism that 
this is the most frequent cause of fires. The insur¬ 
ance companies are continually suffering from the 
consequences of this crime which they are in most 
cases unable to trace to its authors, however strong 
the suspicions they may entertain. In order to guard 
against it in our great cities an insurance detective 
force has been organized, which does something, but 
is still inadequate to often reach the evil. The news¬ 
papers teem with notices of incendiary fires, but the 
cases in which the criminals are detected and brought 
to justice are few and far between. The burden of 
knowing whom to insure rests finally upon the com¬ 
panies and their agents. The danger of overvalution 
on the part of the insured is also an ever pressing 
one. Many a business man has yielded to the tempta¬ 
tion to benefit himself at the expense of the insurance 
company. This fraud is often unsuspected even, and 
is continually being committed by merchants whose 
character has been hitherto unspotted. 

Gross carelessness is another cause which constantly 
threatens the solvency of companies, who realize too 
often the truth of the law maxim, “ Gross carelessness 
is tantamount to fraud.” In fine, the security both 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


712 

of the companies and of the innocent community 
depends very largely upon the care and morality of 
the insured. 

It was only a short time ago that one of the insur¬ 
ance companies of New York, which had taken a risk 
on a large factory in one of the adjoining towns, 
hearing that the employees of said factory were very 
careless as regards the cotton waste used about the 
premises, sent an inspector to the factory to see the 
situation of affairs. The inspector inquired of the 
engineer what became of the cotton waste, and what 
were the rules of the factory in regard to it. The 
reply he made was this, a that it was a standing rule 
of the principals, that all cotton waste or greasy rags 
of any kind that was in use must be placed in some 
metallic receptacle every evening before closing, and 
that which is not in use should be taken out of the 
building.” The inspector replied, that no better plan 
could be adopted, but as he was in the building he 
would like to look through the premises. After hav¬ 
ing passed through the different rooms he started for 
home, and made a report to the company, which 
decided them to cancel their policy with that concern, 
as he stated that nearly every room in the building 
had a heap of cotton waste lying in the corners 
which had not been disturbed for days. The visit 
of the inspector saved the company $5,000, as a short 
time afterwards the entire building was destroyed 
by fire “ from some unknown cause.” 

The question of valuation, it is easy to see, is a 
vital one from the start. Agents, inspectors, and 
adjusters have in this presented to them a field in 
which to exercise their knowledge of men and things, 
and their good judgment. If insurance examiners 


INSURANCE. 


713 

were infallible, then would insurance companies be 
comparatively safe. 

The fact that a building is fully insured seems 
often to be an incentive to carelessness, fraud, and 
crime. To obviate this, it has been proposed that 
one-third of the actual loss be borne by the insured. 
This would render it unprofitable to set fire to one’s 
building, and stimulate the honest insurer to greater 
care and watchfulness. 

The contract should never be so arranged that 
under any circumstances it would be profitable for 
the insured to meet with disaster. 

Companies are too apt to commit a fault in the 
too speedy adjustment and payment of losses, and 
in the promises and assurances which they hold out 
to that end. The slight benefit to be derived from 
the credit of paying a loss a few days earlier than 
their legal obligation dictates, is a poor compensation 
for the additional risk which such a reputation brings 
to the company by attracting a class of customers 
from whom fraudulent losses come. Much safer and 
better to have the credit of paying all honest claims 
when due, free from quibbles and technicalities, even 
though accompanied by the additional reputation of 
requiring a careful scrutiny of all claims. No honest 
man will object to such a scrutiny, or to the necessary 
delay to secure it; and if any one objects, the moral 
hazard of his case is too great to render the risk 
desirable. 

We come next to consider one of the most im¬ 
portant points of all— i.e., the proper distribution of 
risks. 

The three leading agency companies of Hartford, 
Conn., the Hartford, the iEtna, and the Phoenix, in 


FIGHTING FIRE. 

1871 had had an average experience of forty-three 
years. Within that time they had paid over 
$50,000,000, and received $78,000,000 in premiums, 
and had paid dividends to the amount of nearly 
$9,000,000. The two oldest of those institutions— 
the Hartford and the iEtna—have passed safely 
through every great fire in the United States since 
1820. 

How has this marvelous success been obtained ? 
We answer, by a proper distribution of risks. 

In 1871, The Home Insurance Company of New 
York had insured risks to the amount of $242,265,000, 
against assets of $4,578,000. These risks were 
scattered judiciously all over the United States. No 
ordinary fire could consume the hundredth part of 
them. The almost entire destruction of Chicago still 
left more than one-half of their assets standing to 
their credit. 

On the other hand, some of the Chicago companies 
had insured risks in that city for thirty times the 
amount of their assets, and when the great fire took 
place they were, of course, plunged into hopeless 
bankruptcy, paying less than a tithe of their 
liabilities. 

The corrollary from these facts is that no company 
should insure risks in any one place for more than 
a limited portion of their assets. This would seem 
as plain as noonday. Yet the same blunder—we 
might almost say fraud—has been since brought to 
light, as for instance in the case of Boston in the 
great fire of November, 1872. The blame, however, 
rests as much upon the insured as upon the insurance 
companies, since it behooves every city projDerty 
holder before insuring to ascertain the amount of 


INSURANCE. 


715 


risks taken in his locality by the different companies, 
and avoid insuring in such companies as have a 
larger amount of risks there than they can meet. 

The questions of reserve funds, reinsurance, average, 
and many others, are of the most vital importance 
to companies, but we must pass them by without 
discussion, and in conclusion would remark—that the 
experience of the past fifty years proves the pressing 
need of reform in the institutions of insurance, and 
improvements in its management. 

First—A careful and thorough collection of statistics 
relating to all matters having a bearing upon fire 
insurance should be made, including a more searching 
investigation into the causes of fire. 

Second—Uniform state legislation and taxation 
should be secured. 

Third—Uniform rates of a proper standard should 
be established. 

Fourth—Uniformity in the policy of the manage¬ 
ment of companies should be sought for. 

Fifth—Uniform blanks, as far as practicable, should 
be used. 

Sixth—State supervision should be practiced. 

Seventh—Free access should be given to the 
insuring public to all sources of information concern¬ 
ing the company, and sworn statements made to the 
proper officers of the risks insured, and where, and 
of the assets and liabilities of the companies, and 
these statements should be brought home to the 
knowledge of the public. 

Under these conditions, and having a due regard 
to the nature of the risks to be insured, the character 
and antecedents of the parties to be insured, as well 
as to those of the officers and agents of the company, 



716 


FIGHTING FIRE. 


and finally to a judicious distribution of the risks 
taken, Fire Insurance will enter upon a new era in 
the United States—an era profitable to the companies, 
and beneficial to the community. 



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